


Perfect Illusion

by AyotliKestrel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky and Natasha are related, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dubious Consent, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone gets a hug...eventually, Hurt/Comfort, Ignores most of Age of Ultron and completely rewrites Civil War, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Platonic Cuddling, Polyamory, Recovery, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Team as Family, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Unethical interrogation techniques, sexual acts under orders by two people who were in a prior committed relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 14:40:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 87,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AyotliKestrel/pseuds/AyotliKestrel
Summary: When Tony is benched from an Avengers mission due to a concussion he never thought it would be the start of a Hydra plot to separate out the heavy hitters and isolate their brave and reckless Captain. With the trap laid and the proper bait set out, the Avengers are left scrambling to find their beloved Supersoldier. The answer is heart shattering, Hydra feels their Assets need an update and they are hell bent on using Steve and Bucky to provide their shiny new model.*Just a head's up that this story takes place in a world I designed that allows for naturally occurring Mpreg similar to but not the same as ABO dynamics (no hierarchical classifications or animalistic qualities). It will not be the result of individual body modifications or medical torture.*





	1. All Falls Down

**Author's Note:**

> Note on story universe: I mostly use MCU version just because it is familiar to most and easier to describe however I will throw in comic tidbits and personal head-canons as I see fit. Notable differences from MCU is my Hawkeye is deaf and Black Widow is enhanced (though this story radically changes how that came to happen).

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter One  
All Falls Down

 

The moment Natasha stepped into sight Tony knew something had changed. Her face was dead white and her eyes were cold and blank, a mask that both said nothing and everything at the same time to her team. Just as much as putting on the suit made him Iron Man, that expression meant he was currently talking to Black Widow the assassin and not the dependable friend he’d come to know in the last few years. 

Natasha was the best of them at not bringing work home, so this, it was a cause for concern. 

“What happened?” He demanded immediately, having been sidelined from the latest Avengers mission due to concussion protocol and still tender ribs from where he’d been ambushed outside of his armor the week prior. He’d been wearing one of his watch gauntlets and easily put the upstart in his place after the initial surprise attack, but was still just plain pissed he’d been benched for something so stupid. Even he’d been forced to admit though no matter how much help he got from JARVIS it wasn’t a good idea to fly the armor with a lingering concussion, the loads of flashing lights in the helmet were the least of the issues involved. 

“You are going to want to sit down.” She stated calmly, not something he trusted when she looked like that.

“Look, just tel..” he got no further.

“Sit down!” She commanded, and he was powerless to disobey. He found a workbench only half-full with partially done projects and slumped down onto it. 

“Tony, the mission was orchestrated by Hydra.” She spoke so matter-of-factly he almost missed the significance of the sentence and the fact she was giving him the news and not someone a little closer to the subject, almost. He was about to break in with a hysterical comment when she held up a single hand palm forward to silence him, and she continued uninterrupted. “Clint and I believe you were deliberately removed from the equation in such a way that wouldn’t raise suspicions. They sent an incompetent assailant who was only good for a single strike, not full on incapacitation. If the attack had caused more damage we would have cause to take more notice. It’s public knowledge we’re currently down Thor and Bruce, Rhodes is battling it out with the State department over our legality, and we’re still training Wanda, Pietro and Sam, so Hydra planned a way to get the last veteran heavy hitter out of their way.” 

“You’re skirting the issue,” Tony had no problem calling her out, call it a death wish, but he wanted to know damn it. 

“They have him Tony.” She explained blankly, distancing herself from the words. “They spread us out in a populated area so none of us could get to each other, then taunted him and baited the trap with their Soldier. From what we can piece together from security camera footage and the bodies he left behind, he managed to take out three fourths of their forces before they gassed him. Sam’s drone picked up his tracer before it was spotted and disabled when they were loading him, so whatever they want him for, they want him alive.”

The teams all had tracers in their uniforms and a microchip implanted under the skin behind their earlobe, serving as both trackers and hopefully proof of life, but Hydra was too good and found both. Having the evil organization growing like a shadow within SHIELD had left them at a disadvantage, any Hydra agent that was previously SHIELD knew about the microchips and just had to guess at their placement. Any chip designed by Tony Stark was not going to be easy to disable and certainly would not be vulnerable to generalized EMP. They were also ‘smart’ enough to know the difference between their host dying and being dismantled manually, changing the alert it sends out accordingly. 

Thinking about that, the technical aspect of everything she just told him, was far easier than facing the reality of the admission. The brave reckless soldier straight out of a world war was in the hands of people who brutalized whole nations no matter whether they were in the shadows or broad daylight. “They have him?” He repeated, like asking would make it different, when he knew damn well the answer would be the same.

She just nodded, “We have one of theirs in return, pretty battered, unlikely to last the night; but is our best shot at finding out anything about where they took him and why.” 

“I want to see the interrogation,” He even surprised himself with that one, ever since Afghanistan Tony didn’t like being anywhere near where the team was questioning someone. Since the fall of SHIELD they had to take care of it themselves and it brought back so many nausea inducing memories he’d started dry heaving at the very thought of it, his team mates had begun giving him very specific time consuming tasks to accomplish that were as far away from their interrogation room as they could manage. It was just one more way they all attempted to take care of their battered and broken psyches, there wasn’t a single one of them without issues. 

Her eyes narrowed at him, “This is not the time to dip your toe back into the water, we are not being gentle.”

The Widow was never gentle, but she gave her team what they needed. “I hear exposure therapy is the best for anxiety.” 

“Not this time Tony.” Just as surely as she commanded him to sit, he felt the compulsion to obey, only this time he fought it.

“No,” He refuted. “I need to hear this. They have Steve.” That was the crux of the issue, it really was. 

He could see the moment she relented, her body tensing and relaxing, expression shifting a bit, fully aware that each tiny movement was only observed because she allowed it. Then she nodded, almost more to herself then to him, “Fine. He is currently in with Clint and Sam.”

Tony stood on numb legs and followed her, noticing people missing from her report, “The kids okay?” 

“Wanda and Pietro brought him down, took quite a bit out of them, they’ve been checked over and have been sent to rest but will be fine.” She reported, shimmer of pride in her voice. Wanda was her protégé, while Clint worked with Pietro. Their other newbie Sam had been working with Steve, though that was more team building than anything since the guy was well trained military like Rhodey. Tony had a lead on some new talent of his own, but well, that all might be brought to a screeching halt depending on exactly what happened here tonight. 

His first good look at the guy had him seeing red, literally, the guy’s eyebrows were split open over blooming black eyes and head wounds bled profusely, obscuring the man’s features momentarily until Tony mentally cleared away the thick substance, stomach turning at the memories of why exactly he had the ability to do that. 

Tony physically recoiled, because the man looked like someone had taken a flatiron to his face; repeatedly. The flesh was thickly scarred over, twisted and ugly with a sneer to match, the wounds older than this encounter with the Avengers. Tony found himself mentioning to Natasha, who hadn’t left his side, “This guy must be good at pissing people off.” 

“Brock Rumlow, Hydra, he fought Cap and Falcon in DC and ended up with a nice new face. So, I’d say your answer is a resounding yes.” Her lip quirked up into a little smirk, he knew it was in full view of their prisoner and meant for intimidation. None of them were going to show that any of this fazed them in the slightest, that was the other point of keeping Tony as far away from interrogations as possible since he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t break persona. He knew that logically it was the best strategy. This was a whole different game though. His point made clearer when she continued speaking in a low monotone that he knew would be impossible for their captive to overhear, having developed it with Steve as the guinea pig with his enhanced hearing. “He had a bomb, Scarlett Witch contained the blast until Quicksilver could run it out of population range. It’s what drained them so bad. Scarlett’s still practicing holding two targets at once and Silver almost didn’t get clear. We we’re all trying to fight our way to them when Cap was taken.” It didn’t matter that this part was damn near impossible to overhear, or that this man likely knew who they all really were, even that it was unlikely he’d survive this night; it was ingrained in them that if they were on mission it was callsigns only. 

Tony caught what she didn’t say, this was Hydra’s little ring leader on this operation. He was good; divide them up, make the youngest of them vulnerable, then go in for the kill. “He knows us.” Not a question, so he was slightly surprised to get an answer.

“Which means we know him.” That same low tone turned deadly and Tony felt his bones chill.

Tony forced himself to actually look up and watch what he came to see. Now for obvious reasons he had never seen Clint do this and never even entertained thoughts about Sam being involved so he looked with the kind of detached fascination he used to observe Loki’s magic or Thor’s hammer, something he knew logically existed because it was right in front of his eyes, but every bit of his hard-won knowledge battled against the very notion of it. 

Sam was strong and long and lean, standing behind the bound Rumlow who’d been forced to the concrete onto his knees, arms bent and trapped behind him. Sam had planted his feet firmly and put a hand on each shoulder of their prisoner, holding him in place for Clint who stood in front. 

Clint’s sharp eyes were focused and dark, blank of emotion like Natasha’s had been. The back of his hands were red and streaked with drying blood, none of it Clint’s, the archer too careful of his hands to compromise them. Too good at causing pain to need to. He knew soft spots, pressure points, could bring grown men toppling to the ground in tears as a child. The Widow was not the only one trained to make it hurt. His training different, one of self-preservation and desperation, but he learned his trade efficiently. 

Tony watched him work the bound man over and tried to find an objection, make himself hate it the way he always did, find the nausea inside himself; the distaste. Except he couldn’t. This was for Steve. His Steve. Tony did not have a normal moral code, he built his first firearm when he was seven for crying out loud. When it came to the people he loved he would forget everything, right or wrong, burn the world to ashes or build it up brick by brick, so long as it made them safe and happy. 

Tony found himself not looking at Rumlow, focusing at the pull and release of Clint’s muscles. His uniform was always sleeveless, giving him range of motion to shoot, and watching biceps almost as thick as his own calf lunge forward was another trick Tony used to distance himself. Seeing Sam planting himself like an oaken guardian behind the tableau was another eye draw, reminding him of his Rhodey, thinking the two would get along. Good men, capable and skilled, but willing to toe the line of ethics and morality if it meant pulling a friend out of the line of fire. 

Wait.

And then he knew. What he had to do, and what this bastard was waiting for. “It has to be me.” He spoke softly first, finding the words, then more firmly to get Natasha’s attention. “Rumlow will talk to me, that’s what he’s waiting for.” 

She just quirked an eyebrow, waiting, knowing he would explain. “He knows us, all of us, enough to get this deep into it with Hawkeye and not say a word or crunch down some cyanide. They targeted Cap out there and actually managed to catch the stubborn bastard, so there is something else he wants here, and I’m the only one at the compound that wasn’t in the field. So, by process of elimination, it’s me he wants.”

“Unless he wants Scarlett and Silver for capturing him,” She pointed out. 

Tony turned it over in his mind, “Unlikely, he’s bound and pretty beaten up by now. Not the best time for the revenge speech. These guys are all drama queens. No, he’s here for a reason. Think, why was the leader of the operation the decoy? Smacks of the Loki on the Helicarrier incident. Let me try something, and if it doesn’t work, Hawkeye can flex some more.” 

“Subterfuge is not your strong suite.” She observed bluntly. 

“Good thing I’m not going in subtle then, right?” He put on all his charm, lighting up with a teasing grin before sauntering over to the trio in the middle of the room, wishing he had a scotch or something to fiddle with in his hands; made great props when he was improving. 

Iron Man was larger than life, came on strong and never stopped, Tony Stark wasn’t much different most days. He came up to Clint and patted his shoulder, the one attached to the arm and hand he was currently using to jab a thumb into Rumlow’s much abused and likely broken eye orbit. “Round’s up, I’m tapping in.” He snarked, shouldering Clint away with a shove and giving Sam a flippant salute that earned him rolled eyes and scoff for Rumlow’s benefit, but there was a knowing gleam to the dark eyes that gave Tony some back-up in this plan. 

One look and he knew Rumlow couldn’t see anymore, eyes swollen shut and blood running down his face obscured any chance of that, his scarred cheeks and lips had been torn and gashed, the flesh not healed enough to withstand Clint’s ministrations. His nose was broken and dripping sluggishly. 

Despite it all, Rumlow was smiling, “Tony Stark.” It didn’t matter that his teeth were red stained, and there was the distinct rattle-rasp of breathing with broken ribs, Rumlow’s voice was triumphant and Tony knew he was right and his heart turned to stone. 

“It seems you have something of ours.” No need to beat around the bush.

That red grin was chilling in a way completely different from Natasha’s, “Oh no, I think you mean I have something of yours Tony Stark. A certain Captain Rogers with more nobility then sense.” 

Tony’s knees nearly went out but he locked them and refused to give in, Stark men were made of Iron. “Mine, ours, when you fuck with the Avengers, it’s kind of the same thing. Ask Loki for details.”

“One for all huh? Didn’t know the Captain was such a good little bitch, should have made an offer when he was my Strike commander.” From one heart beat to the next all Tony was aware of was the ringing in his ears and Rumlow’s broken breathing, then the pain in his hand made itself known. He looked down to find his fist clenched so hard his knuckles were white, or they would be, if they weren’t coated in blood from Rumlow’s nose. The solid crunch and pop of a successful hit on already separated cartilage only registering after the fact. 

“You tell me right now what you’ve done with our Captain, and I’ll just have you killed. You wait any longer and I’ll have the little red trump card in our pocket called up, how does spending the rest of your miserable life stuck in your worst nightmare sound?” Tony threatened, knowing full well this guy was waiting for the perfect opportunity to sing like a canary, and too terrified to think about why. 

The grin was back, and like a heat seeking missile, Rumlow’s face turned in the direction of Natasha. “Sister, is that you?” He was practically cackling now, no matter how much laughing had to be hurting him, he was only getting more flamboyant. 

Tony looked into the face of Natasha and saw only imminent death. Her words were bitten off chunks of ice, “You are nothing like me Creature.” Of course, absolutely no one in the room missed the lack of a denial. 

“Now, is that any way to speak to family?” Rumlow was crowing now, but there was a burst of rapid movement, the man letting out a stunned howl of pain having not braced for the assault; and Tony realized Sam had driven his knee into Rumlow’s kidney with wicked force and brutal accuracy. 

“She can speak any damn way she pleases, you took our family.” Sam spat at Rumlow, digging his knee in sharply for good measure before settling back into his steady guarding stance. 

Tony liked Sam, he was a good guy. 

“I know what they are going to do with him.” Natasha said quietly, looking at the still grinning visage of Rumlow, swallowing her own urge to throttle him. It wasn’t time yet, he might still have something useful for them. 

“Are you going to share with the class?” Tony had already broken character in a hundred little ways, he needed to regain some swagger or he’d blow it completely. 

“They are attempting to upgrade their assets.” She replied with a wry grin, that made the bottom drop out of Tony’s stomach. 

“And why exactly do they need Cap?” Clint was in the least danger of getting his hand bitten off for getting too close to the Widow right now, so he took the lead. 

She looked at Rumlow with a sneer marring her beautiful features, “Because the best they could train up with the current status quo is this pathetic mongrel. They want a purebred.” 

Tony felt Sam’s eyes on him, then move to flit back and forth from Natasha to Clint, then come back to Tony, “This making sense to anyone else?” 

Natasha gave him a measuring look, ignoring the grinning and bleeding captive kneeling in front of him, and decided to trust him with a few tidbits. Testing the waters for the future. “You did hear him earlier, right?” 

“I don’t believe anything retrieved under interrogation until confirmed,” Sam admitted with a slight shrug, raising a few opinions of him, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“He wasn’t wrong entirely, just drastically over-qualifying himself.” She brushed off Rumlow as lower than an ant. “We share half our genetics, but not the same way, and he’s nothing but a mongrel raised to be Pierce’s attack dog.” 

Rumlow’s grin dimmed a bit while Sam’s brows drew together in thought, trying to understand. “This guy a victim?”

Her harsh laughter sounded through the room, “He had his crossroad’s moment and chose to walk the path he’s on. Unlike myself and Soldat, he never had trigger words implanted in his brain, he’s the one who puts them there, and he likes doing it.” Her edges softened, just enough to give Sam what he needed and nothing more. “There will always be people who enjoy causing pain and destruction, this man is one of them. Do not blame it on his blood or his past, there is something in his head, the way he thinks. It is just as broken as his bones.” 

“Ah, question,” And just for dramatic effect Tony raised his hand. “How the fuck do you know this bastard’s telling the truth? You got more siblings running around we don't know about?” 

“I wasn't completely sure until he called me sister,” Natasha explained. “The files didn’t name Soldat's children, but everything fits from what I was able to dig out of the info dump and there is little chance he would know about me if he wasn't one himself.” 

“Whose children?” Tony felt like he knew, but at the same time, he was not letting this go unsaid. 

“The Winter Soldier’s.” She responded evenly. 

The only one who wasn’t feeling any kind of shock was Clint since he had already known about this, but Rumlow was grinning again and opened his mouth to mock her, “Our father looks so pathetic when he’s screaming in that chair, I almost hate to admit it.”

Before anyone could blink Natasha was on him, her hand clamped around his throat, not so tight he couldn’t breathe at all, but tight enough to make him feel he was slowly strangling. “I warned you.” There was no change in volume or tone, her voice was the same no matter that she was steadily choking the life out of him. “I am nothing like you. Soldat may be father to you, but he was mother to me.” There was emphasis there, and the grip she had on his throat got tighter. “Now, do you know where our dear Captain is?” The false sweetness dripped from her voice and he flinched away from it, but her hand came with it, the bruising force not shifting. 

He shook his head sharply, that hand not leaving any breath for words, and her lips turned up at the ends. Her whole expression was sharp and deadly. “Thought so. You wouldn’t let yourself get taken and have possession of that kind of information. This has been planned far too carefully.” Then with two sharp movements Natasha moved fluidly from strangling the breath from his lungs to shoving the heel of her palm against the ruins of his nose in a maneuver that forced bone and cartilage up and back into his head. Rumlow fell limp onto the ground, Sam leaping back refusing to hold up a corpse. 

After taking several steadying breaths, Tony demanded, “Alright, anyone want to tell me in plain fucking English what the hell happened to Steve?” 

It was Clint who answered, filling in blanks and answering things others might not know, while knowing where boundaries were at. “Steve was taken captive while we were out on mission today. This bastard Rumlow was the ringleader and the kids managed to wrangle him long enough for Nat, Sam, and I to get him on the Quinjet back here. Kinda looks like that was part of the plan though since this interrogation didn’t go like usual. He was focused in on you Tony before he heard Nat, safe to say he knew what you and Steve were to each other. This guy liked to go for the mindfuck approach, it’s how he bagged Steve. Had his team distract Steve with information on Bucky so he wouldn’t notice he was surrounded. Probably why he kept picking at the blood link with Nat. He’s not the brightest tool in the Hydra shed for that one.” Here he paused, giving them all a good long look. “Nat remembers her mother, but last they interacted he did not seem to know her. Though because she was carried by him it made her stronger, faster, and a better healer. The serum in his system passed to her while she grew. Gives her an advantage over the ones he did not carry himself.”

Nat put a hand on his wrist to signal him, “Clint, tangent.”

“Sorry,” He apologized, before continuing. “If Nat and I are following the same train of thought then it’s probably something along the lines of this. We know Bucky has been used for breeding before, for lack of a better term, and we know the children are stronger when he’s been the mother not the father. Best guess is they are going to try and breed him to Cap, the original Super Soldier, and see what they get from that.” 

Tony’s knees wobbled and this time he let them give, settling himself down as his vision blurred. “We may have a problem.” His eyes were wet, he brushed them, and found his thumb wet with tears. “Last week, when I got hurt. He was worried about me, I was worked up about the attack, and we weren’t careful like we should be. Wasn’t worried, if it happened it happened, you know.” His voice choked off as he felt hands on him, two pairs, Sam and Clint he was pretty sure just judging on size. 

The touch sent him into near hysterical laughter as words bubbled up, “Steve might already be pregnant.”


	2. The Night We Met

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up in Hydra custody and learns the plan for his future, and the Winter Soldier receives his next mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a non-graphic sexual encounter that is dubious consent because it is under orders. However, I am making this clear right now, those two will be taking care of each other, I can’t write them deliberately causing each other pain and I won’t, but that doesn’t make the circumstances not what they are. I generally write sex pretty tame because I’m demisexual, but this is lowkey even for me and sex scenes may get more graphic in the future but I thought I would keep that for when they are enjoying each other of their own volition. 
> 
> Content Warning for torture by means of electric shocks and a dissociative episode

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Two  
The Night We Met

Steve’s consciousness came back slowly at first, senses hazy, until he tried to shift his position and the restraints cocooning his body pulled taunt forcing alertness like a tidal wave crashing over him. His metabolism worked double-time to burn whatever drug they’d dosed him with out of his system, and it looked like this time his body would win the fight. 

He was sitting upright, gagged, cuffed and shackled at wrists and ankles, bound at elbows and knees, his torso immobilized with thick straps crisscrossed over his body. Nothing left to chance. A few more experimental tugs at the restraints and he knew this wasn’t ordinary metal and leather, it was reinforced for dealing with enhanced strength; likely in an attempt to contain Hydra’s own Super Solider. 

There was a team of handlers surrounding him, and a monitor on the wall directly in front of his eyes that flickered to life as his captors realized he’d shaken off the drugs. Steve felt his heart in his throat at seeing his Bucky strapped into the same kind of chair as himself only fewer restraints. The handlers standing around him keeping the Winter Soldier compliant with imbedded words and what looked like heavy black cattle prods to help beyond the restraints of mind and metal. Those same electrified weapons were in the hands of the team surrounding himself he noted.

The handler directly behind Bucky and the chair looked up then, into what had to be the camera for the monitor Steve was watching, and a slow satisfied smile spread across his face. The pretentious bearing and god-awful monocle gave him away as Baron Strucker, the Hydra leader they’d tangled with nearly a year before; the Avengers stealing away not only Loki’s scepter but also Wanda and Pietro who were his subjects for human experimentation. He’d slithered away while the team was busy freeing the panicking enhanced twins.

And now the bastard had Bucky. 

Steve started thrashing and pulling at the restraints, controlling his strength into sharp snaps and pops attempting to dislodge something, anything, a wrist or ankle ideally. Trying to shake off the breathless almost white-hot burn of the electricity running through his system from the handler’s prods.

“Unless you want us to wipe his memories of you once more, I would stop your fighting Captain America.” Strucker’s voice took on the gentle bargaining tone of a parent to a child and Steve felt his blood boil, but forced his body to still at the look of pained panic on Bucky’s face. The man would carry out his threat and it was enough to make the Winter Soldier afraid. Steve would comply with the demand right up until he found an opportunity to strike then so help him he would raze this place to the ground with Bucky at his six.

At seeing his compliance, Strucker gave a pleased nod, “You have made the correct decision. You see I have a job for you Captain, one that would do you good to take. Should you refuse it’s the chair for both of you, as many times as it takes to ingrain obedience into the very marrow of your bones.” 

Since Steve had not taken his eyes off Bucky this whole time there was no missing the full body flinch and shudder at Strucker’s declaration. The movement earning Bucky a quick jab from the closest handler and his wicked prod, the volts going through his body making him jerk and twitch, leaving his chest heaving for breath and shrinking away from the over-eager handler. His mind was raw from controlling words and tortured memories, he couldn’t fight the shocks in this state and the handlers knew it. 

Steve could do nothing but glare at the pack of handlers surrounding the Baron and his Bucky. His body wanted desperately to fight, was warring with his mind that had to keep reminding him of Strucker’s ultimatum. He would protect Bucky from his rage, no matter how indirect the harm. 

With the two Super Soldiers sufficiently cowed for the moment, Strucker pulled out a thin red journal from a pocket sown inside his jacket, “You see Captain, in this little book are a few simple words that will have our great Solider perform like a marionette. A spectacular wonder of Soviet programming skill. You my dear Captain, are about to be his next mission.”

Steve did not try to hide his incredulity, because there was no way Hydra had gone through such an elaborate set up just for an end game of killing him privately. They would have made it public if that was their goal. 

“You two will bring forth a better kind of soldier, one tailor made to usher in a new era of Hydra.” Strucker sounded exultant, like the old Priest during Mass Steve used to go to with his Ma back before the war. 

Steve felt ice run through his veins, the full weight of Strucker’s words fluttering around in his mind but refusing to settle. Bucky appeared to be in similar shape, freezing in place not even breathing, but trembling slightly in either fear or rage; possibly a mix of both. 

That’s when the first of the Russian words fell from the Baron’s lips, and Bucky started visibly hyperventilating; yanking at his restraints and rearing up out of the chair; attempting to break free before the sequence could be completed. Steve could only watch in horror as it took six prolonged bouts with the handlers and their electrified weapons before Bucky was limp and sweating, sprawled back against the steel framed torture device. The only sign he was still conscious was the full-body juke that ran through him at hearing each word that spilled out of Strucker. 

Steve’s handlers had to shock him again, the instinct to get to Bucky, to free him, save him; was much too strong to fight. By the time Strucker finished the words Steve’s body went limp, saliva filling his mouth behind the gag with the inability to swallow, and horror inundated him as the haunted blue eyes of Bucky went blank and his muscles grew slack, a route response with dead inflection spilling out of him in Russian. 

“Ready to comply.”

Strucker’s pleased expression would put peacocks to shame, but he was careful to keep his voice firm and authoritarian. “Soldier, your mission is to produce another Asset with the material that will be provided in your cell shortly. Confirm orders.” 

“Create new Asset with material in cell,” Steve shivered at the lack of inflection in Bucky’s voice, but steeled his heart, noticing something so minute he felt he might be tricking himself. Bucky had paraphrased, not parroted the orders. Was he not as out of it as it looked? Or was this just how the Solider talked after complete reset? 

Steve would have no further means of thinking about it, because the handler on his left had pulled the pin on a grenade filled with the same gas that took him out in the field, the group of them retreating in tight formation as Steve struggled to escape the mist that pulled him under into unconsciousness once again. 

XXXXX POV here will switch between Bucky and Steve, starting with Bucky XXXXX

The smell of dried blood and feel of cold sweat on his naked back, the stiff ache of muscles and nerves fried from jab after jab of metal rods with biting teeth made of electricity. This grounded him as much as it tortured. 

Using the chair was like taking a sledgehammer to a computer then pouring acid over the components, brutal and universal, but efficient for destroying all of who he was and could be.

The little red book with the embossed star and words that hit like battle rams, that was more like re-writing the hard drive. It left him blank and compliant, waiting for new parameters; but could never quite get rid of all the ghosts.

Like the one bound and gagged, naked the same as him, and laid out on the wooden slab that served as his mattress while he was out of Cryo. 

The man looked at him with determined blue eyes, golden hair a halo on his head, and the Soldier felt his mind rebel against the large stature. It sent him flashes of a small body pressed beside him on a fire escape, heat wave sending them scrambling out of a tiny cramped bed into the fresh night air only to defeat the escape with their incessant need for contact. 

His orders were a never-ending buzz at the back of his skull, like he had wasps stuck in his head. His feet moved without him realizing it, closing the distance between him and the bound man. Faltering only when getting any closer would require physical contact from either himself or the other. From this distance, he could see the chiseled jaw moving and straining against the gag and realized the captive was attempting to chew through the damn thing. Even through the buzzing orders and mind wiped clean of emotion from trigger phrases, the Soldier felt his lips twitch upwards, finally finding a weak point in the rather direct commands.

The Winter Soldier required firm precise instructions if Hydra wanted something done in a particular way, but with the organization in such shambles most of his typical handlers were dead, captured, or gone so deep underground they might never surface. Before the DC debacle it was fairly normal for them to shift the Soldier around to cover his movements and avoid detection, so he was used to getting a different lead handler for most missions. However, it wasn’t just that Strucker had never commanded him before, the man had never even witnessed someone giving him instructions, a handicap the Baron had no way of knowing just how grossly he had underestimated. 

He had never told the Soldier he couldn’t untie the ‘materials’ in his cell. 

The Soldier’s hands went to the thick roll of tactical leather stuffed between the captive’s teeth and over his tongue, feeling along the straps and locating the clasp behind the back of the golden-haired head like the bit and bridle of a horse. Metallic fingers made short work of the buckles and he eased the gag out of chapped lips before quickly tossing the whole apparatus into the far corner of the grey brick cell like it burned him. 

“Bucky?” The captive’s voice was breathy and low, but the single questioning word was so full of hope it made the Soldier pause. 

Except there was really only one answer to that, “No.” As if on autopilot, he reached out for the cuff on the golden man’s right wrist, trying to ignore the way the captive looked like someone had just punched him through a concrete wall and the subsequent way that look made something in his chest ache that had nothing to do with lingering effects of electrocution. 

Then the newly freed hand, bruised around the wrist from just how strongly the man had fought to escape the bindings, came up to caress the Soldier’s cheek and he couldn’t prevent his body from flinching back away from the touch, the buzz of orders pitching louder at the rejection and the ache deepening with contact. 

Another ghosted memory came, this time the body in his mind and the one in his cell matched, there was the sound of gunfire and the heavy press of a sniper rifle against his cheek. The pull of a trigger, and death for a man who’d been trying to close those brilliant blue eyes for good. The feeling of having this man’s back, always, engulfed him.

That much emotion at once hurt his stripped bare neurons, and he slipped down to his knees clenching his teeth; tasting blood as he bit the side of his tongue. The pain grounding him back in the now of cell and captive and buzzing orders. 

Steve hadn’t been idle while the Soldier was hurting, using the minor freedom he’d been granted to make short work of the rest of the cuffs and straps. He scooped up Bucky into his arms, holding the trembling form against his chest and waiting out the dissociative episode like Tony and occasionally Thor or Clint had to do for him. 

That meant when the Soldier came back to himself he was surrounded by a wall of flesh and blood, and found it maddening, he flailed in the embrace trying to break the hold and get away; but Steve was not letting that happen. The Solider could do far less damage to himself or Steve the more he could keep him immobilized, a trick he’d picked up from when it was Thor’s turn to wake him from PTSD induced nightmares. All it took was strength and patience. “Buck, come on, come back to me.” He kept up a string of words along that line, hoping the combination of his voice and the Soldier’s name would snap him out of it. 

He didn’t know if that’s what did it or if the Soldier managed to find some equilibrium on his own, but slowly the agitated thrashing calmed, and the only sign of his episode was the rapid heart rate Steve could feel since he was wrapped around him like an octopus. 

When the word came, it was so quiet he nearly missed it even with his serum enhanced senses, “Steve?” 

“Yeah Buck, it’s me Steve,” He affirmed, nuzzling his face into the meat of Bucky’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to dislodge himself. “You remember me now?” He asked gingerly, needing to know for his own sake. False assumptions could get him killed. 

The Soldier spoke in a stiff, almost stilted tone that slowly smoothed out as he got used to speaking, “My memories, they come in fragments, bursts. It’s easier to remember things after becoming this than anything that happened before. The chair does not wipe mission details in the same way it doesn’t wipe my ability to put a bullet through a man’s skull. I don’t realize I know something until I need it. Steve, understand, it’s not that I don’t remember, it’s that there is so just so much, and it’s all jumbled together. There is too much Soldier and not enough of your Bucky left.” Then he ran a tentative hand down Steve’s back, “But I know you were small, sick; I tried to take care of you.” Another, slightly more confidant stroke down his back had Steve’s breath hitch. “Then you got big, healthy, and I still tried to take care of you.”

“That’s right.” Some of the tension in Steve’s shoulders bled out, he might still be more Soldier than Bucky, but he was remembering the past. That gave them more of a chance than Steve had dared hope for an hour ago, so things were already looking up.

It let him breathe, and it allowed him to think and observe with every bit of tactical prowess he’d honed in back alley fist fights and European battlefields. The cell was plain, nothing but the essentials for waste disposal and hygiene. Walls were solid cinderblock -likely reinforced internally- with no indication of depth, and the door was thick riveted metal only punctured with observation window and feed drawer. Though knowing it was built to withstand a temper tantrum thrown by the Winter Soldier he doubted he’d find a weak point, and the minor dents that he would bet good money fit perfectly with a metallic fist seemed to fit with his observation. An even closer once over gave him the satisfaction of realizing that in making the room impervious to the Winter Soldier Hydra had to make compromises, no camera had been able to survive the Soldier’s assaults considering he was their trump card in defeating those very systems in taking out his targets making the room free of surveillance equipment, so with the exception of the observation window cut into the door they had some privacy.

There was one thing that came to mind. “We can defend this room. No one could come in or touch us without permission. That is possible between the two of us, but I doubt we could engineer a way out. It doesn’t help they have that knock-out gas as back-up, I have no way of knowing how much of that is floating around so we have to assume all guards are carrying it. So, it’s in our best interest to play along until we see a better opportunity spring up.” 

The Soldier easily followed along with his points, but his eyes were haunted as he spoke again though Steve couldn’t see them from the way they were wrapped around each other, “Steve, do you know what they want?” 

They both felt Steve’s breath catch in his chest as he responded solemnly, “A baby.” The moment he spoke the body in his arms shuddered and the Soldier choked on his own breath. 

When he managed to talk, the words were broken and angry, “No, they want an Asset, a weapon. Something beyond what they managed with me, and nearly succeeded in making with my Spiderling. They will breed us, take what comes of it, and raise them to be the perfect killing machine. They’ve tried it before, but my children are not so easily tamed.” There was a trace of possessive pride in his voice there that made Steve swallow hard. 

Steve clung to the Soldier tighter, “We will find a way out, I promise. If nothing else I know my team is looking and won’t stop until they find us. Iron Man alone will bring the world to heel for someone he loves.” 

The Soldier listened, and knew what Steve was trying to tell him. “You two are like we used to be?” 

Steve nuzzled into the Soldier once more, nodding with the motion, startling a bit as he felt the Soldier’s flesh hand slide over to his lower belly rubbing small circles there, “I don’t want to take anything else from him.” The whisper had Steve trembling. 

Steve squeezed his arms around the Soldier again, “He knows I love you, and that you loved me back once. I came clean and told him everything, about us and what Hydra had you do in 1991. It wasn’t easy, for him or the relationship, but we came through the other side all the stronger for it. He understands that you were a tool without control of your actions. He knows I love him, and he never made me choose because his heart is built for more than one love too.” 

Here and now, with no mind wipe, no Cryo, and only the trigger words to hold him, the Winter Soldier was breaking the programming with Steve’s steady presence as a guide. Strucker had made a major mistake. Almost three decades ago, that mistake had not been made. 

“There was one time other than this, just one, where I fought my orders.” The Soldier spoke with such a bone deep sadness Steve pulled him close, resting the brunette head against his chest so the steady beat of his heart could hopefully soothe him a bit. Though the Soldier didn’t break in his story, “I couldn’t completely stop what was happening, they would likely kill my Spiderling to punish me if they discovered what I was doing, but when it was my turn to train the Widows she learned to bend instead of break despite the command to treat them all as equals. They were all enhanced in some way and most of them were genetically mine, but she was different, carried under my heart and I could only choose one to survive. The experiment proved two things, my children are strongest when born from me but when that’s the case they are impossible to control. She escaped them on her own terms, like I was never able to.”

“The Black Widow is your daughter?” Steve breathed out slowly, coming to terms with the story slowly. 

“I knew who she was and that she was with you that day on the highway, could not mistake the style I had a large part in training, but I was being closely monitored and carefully ordered. Much better handlers on that mission than the current one, I could not acknowledge her under the circumstances.” The Soldier explained, slumping against Steve. 

“That makes two people on the team right there with good reason to get us out,” Steve encouraged. “We aren’t going to be trapped here forever.” 

“Forever may not matter,” The Soldier warned, “He has the book. I still feel those orders scratching at my skull, he says those words again with half decent orders and I won’t be able to stop it the next time. No matter how good a bear hug you give.” 

“If it’s any help at all, I’d rather get it over with while we’re both still in control of our own heads, as much as we can be under the circumstances.” Steve realized the Soldier had a point. 

The Soldier took a deep breath, “Orders never said it had to be you carrying, it’s been me before, I can do it again so you don’t have to.” 

“No!” Steve refuted a little faster and sharper than he intended, which made the Soldier flinch and flex his arms tighter around him. Steve rubbed at the tense limbs in apology, metal and flesh in opposition under his hands, but he continued firmly, “No, it has to be me.” 

A warm hand settled on his lower belly again, an eyebrow raised in question, and all Steve could do was shrug helplessly, “Don’t know, too soon.” 

There was a catch to the ability of both sexes to have children, they could not be pregnant and get someone pregnant at the same time. If they attempted sex with the goal of giving Strucker what he wanted using Bucky, and Steve was already pregnant, it wouldn’t work and they would be caught. In theory they could just switch places throughout their time as captives and it wouldn’t matter, but considering the circumstances they both wanted this over with in as few encounters as possible. So, using Steve to start with was the efficient option and would protect the baby he might currently be carrying. 

Steve saw the exact moment the Soldier came to realize that point, his shoulders slumped and his haunted eyes looked defeated, but he started to carefully shift the two of them around so they were on hands and knees, the bulk of the Soldier draped over him comforting instead of suffocating, and it meant his back wouldn’t be smashed against the wooden board masquerading as their bed. The Soldier’s arms twitched and he hesitated. “Don’t want to hurt you Steve.” 

“You won’t,” Steve assured softly, tilting his head to the side and rubbing their cheeks together. “Whether I was a tiny punk in Brooklyn or Captain goddamn America you always took care of me. I know you are trapped somewhere between the Winter Soldier and my Bucky right now but it does not matter because you will not hurt me like this, I know it in my soul.” 

“You trust me that much?” The Soldier could not contain his surprise, body humming with it. 

Steve pressed back against his bulk, sighing at the good memories feeling Bucky covering him brought back and wishing with all his might they were back in that tiny tenement in Brooklyn trying not to wake the neighbors rather than stuck in this hellhole. “Yes, I do.” He affirmed. 

And the Soldier did his best to earn it. Holding him carefully and letting Steve remind him what worked for them and what didn’t, setting pace and rhythm to make it quick and efficient like their hurried trysts in moldy tents during the war. He would take care not to hurt Steve but he was not putting on a show for anyone who decided to look through that observation window. 

It was over quickly, something they deliberately encouraged, and it left them drained and huddled together; using each other to soften the bed enough to fall into a fitful sleep each remembering operations that saw them sleeping on bare earth and wrapped up in each other for warmth much like this. 

Strucker did not realize that he signed his own death warrant the moment he placed those two alone together. Leaving them that way, well that was setting in motion a string of dominoes fate only knew where it lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -notes for those interested in anatomical explanations- Since I’m not sure where I’d get a good chance to shoehorn this into the story, I’m putting this in a note and you get to choose to read or not. Basically, humans in my story are only male or female in appearance rather than function, and those superficial differences are an expression of the species varied attractions. In other words, the sexes look different because people are attracted to different traits, but they are both able to carry children or get a partner pregnant. There are no inherently infertile couplings. Genitalia between sexes has just a few key differences, with males having slightly more pronounced penises and an opening in the perineum for access to uterus, while females have fully formed vaginas with extended clitorises; both sexes now have internal sperm glands that sit beside their ovaries. Upper bodies look like they do in reality; except males are capable of feeding their children themselves and their chests will swell a bit but it’s less defined then breasts and will go away when they stop nursing. The children of males are smaller than those of females, and their connective tissues soften more during pregnancy to compensate for narrower hips. Also, in this universe while male hips are still narrow, they aren’t jagged or rough, instead they are smooth like a female.
> 
> As a way to compensate for increasing the birthrate of the species, I've cut fertility rates in half. Instead of once a month, human's are now on an every other month cycle. Just a little tidbit unlikely to come up in casual conversation in the fic, but important to people concerned with overpopulation as it is.


	3. Scars to Your Beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony hits a wall in the search for Steve and collapses into bed, one occupied by a pair of assassins, one of which has a tale to tell. Except this bedtime story is certainly not one for children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: First I’m giving a general notice that this chapter gets pretty brutal because it describes the creation of the Black Widow from Natasha’s point of view and she uses more detail than Bucky. Specific triggers outside of the known Widow elements include discussions of torture methodology and human experimentation, including what was applied to the twins.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Three  
Scars to Your Beautiful

There were many words people could use to describe Tony Stark and Iron Man, none of which were synonymous with dignified. So when he finally felt too exhausted, too burnt out and overextended, for even his tricks to work anymore; there was nothing left in his emotional stores to get worked up over realizing the bed he’d crawled into was not his own. And he simply did not care that it was currently occupied by two deadly assassins. 

No one quite knew what Natasha and Clint were to each other, and they weren’t stupid enough to ask considering people were typically quite fond of having all parts of their anatomy attached. The Avengers were a team made up of misfits and broken pieces learning how to heal, just sharing a bed did not mean what it might out in the larger world.

Case in point Tony slinking up onto the mattress between them and faceplanting on the pillows, body stiff and tense from nearly a month of fruitless searching with scattered food and snatched naps while the latest theory fell flat. At least he had the good sense to grab a cursory shower before attempting this maneuver, or they’d have absolutely no qualms about doing it for him. Rhodey certainly hadn’t when it was his bed Tony had infiltrated the previous time he’d hit the wall in the frantic search. 

Clint’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, softly at first to let him know it was coming, then pressing down with steady pressure linking them together. “We’re going to find him Tony.” The words were straight forward and steady, like there was simply no other option. 

“He’s strong, and he knows we’re coming for him. He’ll figure out how to keep himself safe until we get to him.” Natasha observed, shifting her leg over until their thighs were pressed together, giving a physical link just like Clint had done. 

Tony just barely contained the pained groan that wanted to escape him, both at the thoughts assaulting his mind and the feel of Clint’s calloused fingertips working into the tense muscle of his shoulders, “We all know the only way that stubborn bastard is going to survive this is if he gives them what they want, and Steve genuinely sucks at following orders he doesn’t approve of.”

Natasha’s body stiffened beside him, muscles rigid and even her breath was silent, words were clipped and measured carefully. “This is one order he is going to follow, because just like he breaks rank to save others he’ll follow along if it’s to keep someone safe, though I don’t doubt he’s never stopped looking for a way out. If it was just him he’d fight more openly, but he’s not alone, so he’s going to keep his head down and bide his time. I’m not even talking about the baby, because how Hydra intended that to happen gave Steve something to protect.” 

“The Winter Soldier, Steve’s Bucky.” Tony realized, heart clenching at the thought. “Hydra’s using him to control Steve?” 

“Depends on how smart his handlers are,” Clint informed, still working talented hands over Tony’s back. “What Nat meant is his very presence will influence Steve, but it isn’t out of the question for that influence to be strengthened one way or another. We have no way of knowing how much or how little contact they are letting Steve and the Soldier have, or if they thought to exploit the connection. We don’t even know how much autonomy the Winter Soldier has right now.”

Natasha was still tense, but her tone was musing and less dangerous though Tony was not going to make the mistake of underestimating her. “Soldat can’t stop himself from following his orders, but he is smart and resourceful, that means if there is even the smallest mistake in the commands he receives he can take advantage of the wording when something triggers him into thinking he needs to. He was able to exploit the slightest loophole in the Black Widow mission orders to help me. They ordered him to train us all equally, and he did, spending exactly the same amount of time and energy on all of us. Except their orders were specific about how he had to train us, but not what exactly he had to train us in. He worked to subtly build up my strength and movements to be a counter to theirs rather than a mirror, then forced me to understand my own brutality by showing me his and taught me what it meant to sacrifice self for the sake of preserving life. Lessons the others never got, they only saw a ghost story that taught them to fight, not to control feeling. He is the reason I was the strongest Widow in more than one way, why I was strong enough to overcome my programming and chose to take Clint’s deal so I could survive rather than go down with the mission like a good little operative.”

“That explains your reaction to Rumlow a little better,” Tony admitted, exposing the blood tie only explained so much since Rumlow himself -by his own word- hated to admit his link to the Winter Soldier, because you know having a few issues after seventy years of torture made a man pathetic. Not. Tony had endured three months of that shit in Afghanistan and after a lot of very long conversations with himself, JARVIS, and trusted friends, he’d come to forgive the tool of Hydra and fostered a growing sense of respect for the man enduring all that pain. Especially since it sounded like his awareness was still locked in there somewhere just beneath the surface, unable to do anything but watch and hope for his handler to make a mistake. 

Natasha sighed, “I could not stand to hear him claim Soldat as father and then spit on the connection. He did not deserve to have my Soldat’s blood in his veins. He should have seen his death coming, after all, he was hardly the first sibling I’ve killed. I am the only Black Widow still alive.”

“Wait, what?” Tony had a case of terminal curiosity, but he wasn’t heartless, and he chose to flip around until he was at the foot of the bed; giving Clint access to Natasha. The two assassins curled around each other until he would be hard pressed to tell which limb belonged to whom if it weren’t for the size difference. 

Clint’s bigger hand tapped Natasha’s hip in invitation and Tony draped himself over the tangle of human, mostly on their legs, resting his head on the offered spot and thin hands tangled into his curly hair as she started petting him like he was a very large house cat. 

Natasha’s story was solemn and quiet in the still room. “Soldat’s children have always been treated in one of two ways. There are those he fathered but never laid eyes on while knowing who they were to him, and he likely did not care to, because those ones were Hydra to the core and often served as his handlers. They were raised in the image of the organization that birthed them and Hydra enjoyed using Soldat’s own blood to torture him. That is what spawned Rumlow. The less common option is when they have been used in experiments. The Black Widow project being the most well-known and arguably successful of them. From what I have found digging through the files, and trust me I’ve looked, I’m the only surviving child he carried himself. The strength I got from him was not considered worth the rebellion. Of course, they had no way of knowing just how much Soldat had interfered with the Widows. They thought their orders would be enough to even out the playing field, but did not know how cunning he can be, or how ruthless, when he has a goal. I’ll never forget. He taught me brutality and the sacrifice of self for the sake of life because those things were consuming him. He knew in helping me live he was killing the others so he made sure his choice was not in vain. Hydra never took his ability to want away from him, because you cannot torture a being with no wants, even pain becomes just another sensation if you do not want relief. When he was faced with the Red Room and the Widows he discovered something, that in that place he didn’t have to only want, he could have. He twisted and railed against his programming all for the chance to save just one, and he chose me. Now I am free and he is still trapped.” 

When the story ended, the air was heavy, and Tony struggled to come up with a way to break the silence that settled over them. It was hard to render him speechless, but Natasha had succeeded. 

Clint did the work for him, “Nat’s been tracking him for years, as soon as her leash lengthened and she had a break from missions she started trying to find him again. There is a reason he’s a ghost story in the espionage world though, trying to find information on him is ridiculously difficult even if you’re willing to take the darker routes.”

“They moved him constantly, switched handlers nearly every mission, and didn’t keep him awake longer than it took to complete his orders.” Natasha shifted around in the human huddle in agitation. “I got close to him a handful of times but ever since I defected to Shield I have been a part of his orders. There are times he recognizes me and others he doesn’t, but either way I was always on his list of threats to eliminate. I told Steve and Sam that he shot me once, and he did, but if he wanted to kill me he would have and with those orders there shouldn’t have been any question about it. That incident was him finding a loophole, since a gut shot on a normal human really would kill them but I am enhanced enough to survive it. The discrepancies in his awareness levels is how I confirmed he was being shuffled between locations and handlers. The chair that wipes his mind and the trigger phrases that get him ready for his orders do slightly different things, and work best when used directly after each other. Handlers that wait too long between the two, or if they only use one, give him more autonomy.” 

Tony took it all in, “What could that mean for Steve?” 

“If there is anyone on this earth that will make Soldat try and circumvent his orders, it’s Steve.” Natasha affirmed. “Like I said, he cannot openly defy the commands he gets -not even for me- but he can and will exploit every weak point there is to exploit. There is something else good to put a little hope in as well.”

Tony wanted to see if he could figure it out, his well-earned ego not wanting to be left in the dust, “His handler might not have a clue what he’s doing.”

It was Clint that responded, saving Natasha the trouble, “We know Hydra bounced the Solider around a lot before DC, and now that there is almost nothing left above grid it’s a pretty safe bet whoever’s holding the leash is someone who hasn’t done it before. Which is a great way of fucking it up.” 

“Soldat was able to teach me to survive and escape because of a single semantic error in his orders, made by handlers who were well trained in giving commands to the Winter Soldier while correctly using both chair and trigger phrases.” Natasha reminded, “The chances of his current handler being as skilled is very low so there is likely to be even more blatant workarounds he can take advantage of. Plus, we know he is going to be in the same immediate area as the tactical genius that is Steve for at least short bursts if not longer because moving them more than necessary would be risky and give either Steve or Soldat an opportunity to break out of containment. Having those two working together is a recipe to break down his programming faster, because the longer he worked with me in the Red Room the more human he became even with the handlers doing everything right otherwise, and in this case we don’t know that they are.”

Tony took comfort in that, seeing the truth of the words, but there was something nagging at them in all this and he shifted around to peak tired but still sharp brown eyes up at Natasha, who had her face pressed against Clint’s chest, the archer massaging her temples. “Natasha, why didn’t you tell Steve about who the Soldier is to you? You fought him together in DC for crying out loud.” 

“Exactly.” Natasha responded shortly, and Tony huffed, feeling like his curiosity was just going to have to sit there because he sure as hell was not going to provoke an assassin with a tension headache. 

Clint to the rescue again, “Tony, think.” He advised, before taking pity on the genius who didn’t have the luxury of decades of espionage background. “The Soldier trained Nat to kill her own sisters, knowingly and deliberately, all for the sake of protecting herself, and the Widow was on the Winter Soldier’s elimination lists during missions. She did not want anyone knowing what it meant if he was too far gone and she had to put him down, because she would do it, just like he trained her to.” 

That’s when their little huddle-slash-memory fest was interrupted by gentle knocking and two slender forms tiptoeing into the room towards the bed, only hesitating a moment on seeing the third body present in the human puddle.

“Come on, you know you want in on this,” Clint called to the hovering twins, making up their minds for them. 

Pietro crawled up first, flopping onto the bed heavily, collapsing half on top of the archer, and making the older man let out a soft oomph with the sudden press of weight on his chest. Wanda was slower and a bit more graceful, laying down against Natasha’s side and reaching across to link a hand with her brother. Everyone’s legs were caught up in a tangle that more or less contained a curled-up Tony, his head shifting over to Clint’s thigh to give Wanda a bit more room next to Natasha. 

“You have no idea how loud all of you think.” Wanda informed quietly once she and Pietro were settled in place against their respective mentors. “I could feel your distress from the other side of the compound, probably shouldn’t have been surprised to find you together.” 

“You are supposed to be practicing control young lady,” Natasha admonished, but the words were gentle, no bite to them, and Tony knew she had no expectations of Wanda being able to follow them just yet.

The teen’s accented voice sounded ruffled, “I am practicing, you’re just very loud.” She repeated.

“Oh, am I?” Natasha challenged, quirking up an eyebrow and trying not to smile down at the girl clinging to her side. 

“Yes,” Wanda insisted, undaunted, and Tony was a little impressed at her gall, but then Wanda shot him a sharp measuring look. “But he thinks the loudest.” 

Clint and Pietro both snorted in laughter at the same moment, but it was the archer that responded first, “Why does that not surprise me?” 

Tony ignored the teasing and focused on the enhanced teen, “You’ve been reading my mind tonight?” He accused, but at least attempted to moderate his tone, not sure how much control she may or may not have over it yet. She and Pietro were lab rats, their powers a mixture of blood and science fast-forwarded by Loki’s scepter, even the twins themselves didn’t know what the limits were. 

“Not thoughts, just your distress, I have to want to see your thoughts for that to happen.” Wanda explained, “But there is nothing I can do yet to stop sensing it when you project your pain so loudly, and it makes it easier to see thoughts if I do wish it. I just have to follow the thread back to the source.”

Pietro at least had the decency to let his sister finish talking before he butted into the conversation, “Not like it’s hard to know what you’re thinking about.” That earned him a swat upside the back of his silver haired head curtesy of Clint, but he barely felt it and tossed a cheeky smirk at the archer before focusing back on Tony. “Your Captain is missing, and it hurts, what else is there to know?” 

And it was the truth, no matter how hellish the story Natasha had just shared had been; he still could not get Steve’s face out of his mind or forget that he was not here safe with them. 

“You know what our mother used to say about a puzzle that couldn’t be solved?” Wanda spoke tentatively, the subject still a bit raw especially where Tony was concerned, but he had shared his story with the twins, of an assassination that happened before they were born, then torture in an Afghanistan cave that changed his heart literally and figuratively.

Tony shook his head and Pietro picked up the thread of conversation, “If the puzzle could not be finished go back to the beginning and look again, you missed a piece.” 

“We’ve looked at all the pieces a hundred times,” Tony raged, but really much too tired to do more than glare at Pietro. 

“That just makes the point true, doesn’t it? If you’ve looked at all the pieces and still nothing, then there must be another piece somewhere.” Pietro urged. 

“You know what? Let’s humor them.” Natasha decided, with Clint nodding in agreement. 

“I don’t know what’s left to find, we tore apart Lagos looking for hints; nearly got ourselves arrested for it.” Tony grumbled, voice muffled as he buried his head in the muscle of Clint’s leg. 

Wanda hummed tunelessly in thought, “Maybe the piece you need is not in where he was taken, but in how it was done.” 

“Already thought of that, every word out of Rumlow’s mouth was checked and cross checked with the file dump and any Hydra operative we managed to get our hands on in the last month, nothing turned up.” Tony’s only pride at the moment came from realizing the amount of living Hydra agents had exponentially decreased since Sam and Rhodey had teamed up to both dig up intel and interrogate the rooted out captives. If none of those operatives ever made it back to the compound for more legal means of processing, well no one in the Avengers was going to bring it up. 

“There is something I wonder,” Pietro started to say, but stalled out and only continued once Clint had urged him on with nudges and soft words. “That day with the bomb, why us? Wanda and I. The man we captured wanted to come back here, that was made clear, so why did he choose us to catch him? There was no guarantee he would survive his own bomb or my sister’s power. He wanted to deliver a message, there were better options to take then trying to tangle with living powder kegs.” 

“You are the youngest on the team and the most inexperienced in the field. Rumlow could have thought the risk was worth gambling with unknown powers rather than tackle a veteran fighter.” Tony offered up as the obvious first option. 

“Wait a minute Tony, that doesn’t quite make sense.” Clint refuted. “Normally I would agree with the possibility, but remember how careful Hydra was to get our heavy hitters out of this fight? Wanda was the strongest one out there that day, easily, no matter that she doesn’t have experience. Pietro has a point. Rumlow targeted the strongest fighter when the whole time he intended on turning himself in, that’s not normal. His whole set up with the bomb was almost perfectly designed for the twins to handle and keep him alive at the same time.” 

Every person in the room froze, realization striking one after the other in a rapid string, but it was Natasha who voiced it. “Rumlow knew Strucker.” Both twins flinched at the name, and huddled closer to Clint and Natasha, Tony getting caught up by proxy. 

Clint draped his arm over Pietro so he could run soothing fingers through Wanda’s hair, Natasha mirroring the move in the other direction, and the archer asked. “Nat, did you find any mention of the Winter Soldier in his file?” 

“Not as a handler, but he was granted blood and tissue samples for use in his experiments. It wasn’t a direct serum, but created the basis for something like it.” Natasha explained, a small nod towards the huddled twins had the other two adults trembling with rage. 

Clint was first to pull himself together since in his line of work a moment of shock could mean death, “So he knew the Winter Soldier was real, and that there had to be methods of controlling him or there wouldn’t be effective samples. Which from what Sam and Rhodey found is not universal knowledge even within Hydra.” 

Tony found his voice somehow, though for the life of him he didn’t know how, “Plus there is the fact the bastard never resurfaced after we beat the crap out of him last year. He has to be one of the last high-level Hydra operatives left, and they wouldn’t risk putting a brainwashed killing machine in the hands of an underling.” He fixed the twins with a measuring stare, then slowly shuffled up to pull them into a loose hug not wanting to make them feel trapped. “You were right, we were missing a piece. All this time we’ve been tracking Steve, when it was the Soldier we needed to find.” 

Clint couldn’t help it, he really tried to stop himself, but he ended up snorting in disbelief anyway. “Tony this may just be the only time in the last seventy years that tracking the Winter Soldier was the better plan than trying to find Captain fucking America, and I include the time Steve spent stuck in an iceberg. Hell if it weren’t for what happened in DC clearing the playing field then it still wouldn’t have worked out, so this is Steve, Sam, and Nat’s win in my book.”

Despite Clint’s playful ribbing, Natasha was quiet, and it caught Tony’s attention, “Alright, what’s going through your head right now?”

Her jaw clenched, like she really didn’t want to answer that question, but she forced herself to get it over with anyway, “Even if we’re right and Strucker has Steve and Soldat, we still don’t know where they are. I have been tracking my Soldat for years, all of us have been after Strucker since we got these two free, and you’ve been ripping apart the world for Steve since he went missing. I think we are on the right track, but it’s only part of the answer.” 

Tony’s body went limp, his energy reserves that started out so pitiful just plain gone by now, “I know, but we have to keep looking for the next step. This would be a great time for Thor to come home, that buddy of his that sees everything would do wonders.” 

“We all want him and Bruce home, but Thor’s world is literally in the middle of a war right now, you saw what happened in England. If there was any way he could get here he would take it, he won’t just abandon us. As for Bruce, I’ve had feelers out but he’s dropped so far off grid I legitimately don’t think he knows what happened yet, but I promise you the moment he finds out he’ll be back.” Natasha reported on the missing members of their makeshift family, the booming laughter and quiet company just as desired as any other contributions they could make. 

“So basically we are going to have to do this the old fashioned way,” Clint added. 

“We will find Steve and free my Soldat.” Natasha affirmed, before smirking. “That’s if those two don’t manage to tear Strucker apart and break away all on their lonesome. I wouldn’t put it passed them, especially since it seems true that he doesn’t have a clue how to properly command Soldat. I mean the whole plan has a fundamental flaw, but we should have them long out and free before that became obvious.” 

“Explain?” Tony simply did not have the energy to elaborate.

Natasha relaxed back, stroking the twin’s hair in soothing motions and letting Wanda cling to her while Pietro did the same to Clint. “There is a reason Soldat never carried another child after me. Hydra had a hard enough time molding the strong wills of those children he never got the chance to influence, it was virtually impossible with me. I was never subjected to the chair that wipes memories, but the trigger phrases, that was used to cow me for a time but even that did not work forever. It was considered far too much work to maintain me in my rebellion and not worth the trade-off for natural enhancements like I said before. The problem with the plan Hydra is running right now is they aren’t just using Soldat, but decided to include Steve who is even more ridiculously stubborn. Both of them will fight tooth and nail to protect something of theirs, even if they have to go about doing that in different ways. It doesn’t matter which of them ended up having the baby, Hydra will not get what they wanted.”

Tony sighed heavily, “I just want him home. It’s been so long, I know in my head what’s probably happened already, but I don’t care. We’ll deal with it when it comes to that. He needs to be safe and free before I freak out about anything else.” 

“You won’t get anywhere as exhausted as you are,” Clint warned, lightly flicking the engineer’s forehead with thumb and index finger. “Sleep now where we can watch your back, then face the search fresh.”

Considering the very act of nodding was almost more than he was capable of doing, Tony wasn’t going anywhere so it was probably a good thing he wasn’t being kicked out of the assassins’ bedroom. 

The clump of people spread out a little more comfortably, but stayed in easy loose contact with one another, mostly because the bed wasn’t exactly a California King but they also needed it to calm down and rest.

For Tony, he felt wrung out like a grease rag, and bone tired, but it was the first solid lead they had managed to piece together and he found himself relaxing into the knowledge that they were finally that little bit closer to bringing Steve home. Until they did he would do everything he could to figure out his own head, because Tony Stark was a lot of things but naïve wasn’t one of them, and he knew his Captain would not be coming back alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure in the interest of clarity I’ll state this now. Bucky’s awareness is always there when he is the Soldier no matter what the mission is, but it is a matter of how well he is handled whether he is able to act on that awareness. Think of the controls on him like putting on layers of straightjackets, they make him immobile and compliant, but who he is at the core is still the same. When he manages to exploit a flaw in his orders it would be the equivalent of a handler forgetting to buckle one part of one jacket. It doesn’t release him, but it lets him move within the confines of the orders and affect the mission just enough to sway the outcome. When Strucker only used the journal, forgoing the mindwipe, and then left him alone with Steve; he gave them an opportunity to start peeling off the layers of jackets. It doesn’t make what happened as the Soldier go away, and he won’t ever completely be Bucky again because even during the deepest points of control he was still witnessing the events, but it’s a place to start fresh.
> 
> I believe this is possible because Hydra wouldn’t need multiple layers of control, both memory alteration and trigger phrases, if there wasn’t something still lurking in him that they were working to contain.


	4. Move Like A Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is why you don't leave two tactical geniuses in a room together, then give them something they both want to protect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning for painful morning sickness.

Chapter Four  
Move Like A Soldier

It was hard to mark time in the cell, the light from the observation window was harsh and electric and held at a constant level, just like the kind from the overhead light within the cell. The circulated air was recycled and heavily filtered, making Steve and the Soldier believe that whatever base they were in was likely subterranean; or at least this part of it was. 

They learned something that first night, it was not a good idea to sleep at the same time. They were both prone to violent nightmares more often than not, and while the Soldier was able to work around his orders when fully awake it was a different story when his mind was vulnerable from sleep. So the two of them traded off, sleeping short bursts throughout the measureless days, trying to keep each other safe. 

As close as they could tell they were fed once a day through the feed drawer in the door, a handful each of calorie dense bars packed with protein and nutrients that Steve was intimately familiar with since he had eaten them as part of his field rations on Shield ops. They were designed to keep up with even his metabolism. 

They would keep himself and the Soldier healthy, but the bars did little to stop actual hunger and did not fill his stomach for long. When he felt a creeping sort of daily nausea begin, it was a torture of dry heaves and attempting to drink water from cupped hands out of the tiny sink built into the wall to give his body any kind of relief from choking on nothing. 

Like now, his body shook and shuddered, rearing up and back with involuntarily clenching muscles and bile burned the back of his throat, but there was nothing in his system to lose. Steve was left panting and trembling with sweat beading on his forehead making unclipped hair stick uncomfortably until the Soldier’s heavy hand brushed it back out of the way. The other man a steady presence beside him but there was little else he could do while Steve’s body rebelled against him in the first overt signs of growing life.

Slowly, finally, the spasms lessened and Steve regained a little more control over himself, drained but already starting to feel his strength building back up, blessing Erskine in his head once again for giving him the physical resilience to match his stubbornness. 

The Soldier realized the worst of it had passed and pulled Steve up off his knees slowly so he wouldn’t get dizzy, then guided them back over to their slab of a bed and laid down before encouraging Steve to lay against his chest for support, careful to make sure he was resting against flesh instead of metal. “I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly, the words barely ghosting into Steve’s ear, but he knew they were heard. 

“Not your fault,” Steve insisted, squeezing the arm clutching him to the Solider almost unconsciously. 

“Pretty sure it might be.” The Soldier spoke with a small quirk of lips against the shell of his ear, and a hint of a tease that sent Steve’s heart racing. Hearing something so much like his Bucky when Steve was working so hard to come to terms with the reality of who he was now; it hurt and felt good at the same time. 

Steve brushed their cheeks together softly, “Just because he might be yours doesn’t mean I blame you for it, I don’t. You didn’t have any more control over the situation than I did, if anything you had less.”

The Soldier went quiet for a moment, before voicing a hesitant, “He?”

“Hydra wants this baby to be something less than human, I refuse to let that happen and the least I can do to change that is to never call him an it. I have no idea if I’m right but you already have a daughter you are proud of, so for now I’m going to keep thinking of him as a boy.” Steve explained his reasoning easily. 

“You want him,” The Soldier recognized that desire.

Steve shifted the Soldier’s hold so that his human arm wrapped around his waist and laced their hands together on top of his lower abdomen. “Yes, he is mine and I want my baby. Hydra commanded this and made the baby a prisoner just as much as we are and I’m fucking furious. I don’t know who his father is, but if he isn’t yours that makes him Tony’s and I want him either way.” 

Once again, the Soldier sat in silence for a long moment, something Steve had gotten used to over time. The Soldier took time to process information and did not speak often, and when he did it was usually short and blunt. A far cry from the charming Brooklyn social butterfly. That more than anything was helping Steve figure out where the line was between his Bucky and this person who was picking up the pieces of a life stuck between worlds. 

When the Soldier finally found the words he was searching for, they weren’t any where near ones Steve was expecting, “What happens when you go free, if he is mine?”

Swallowing down the pain in his heart that question brought, Steve tackled it head-on like he did every overwhelming obstacle, “To start with if I’m free so are you, I’m not leaving you behind. Next, I just told you, this baby is mine. I want him for that reason alone. However, if he is yours I’m going to have to talk it over with Tony and you, because I am keeping my baby no matter what happens, but I really don’t see Tony rejecting me or him once he has time to calm down and think. We will work something out between the three of us that will make sure this little one knows he is loved.”

The answer both satisfied the Soldier and gave him something else to consider, so Steve waited patiently for his thoughts to come together. It wasn’t like there was much else to do in the cell. They had spent most of the days like this. Conversing with long pauses between question and answer, using intervening time for thinking or maintaining physical strength. They would not risk missing an opportunity to escape because they let their conditioning go lax. 

“I’ll protect him, don’t care if he’s mine. I promise.” The Soldier broke his silence abruptly, but when he did, Steve couldn’t stop the smile from coming on his face. Though it ended up being short lived, just like most smiles in this place, disappearing with the Soldier’s next carefully measured words, “But they might try to separate us, now that it’s obvious he’s coming.” 

“I’ve thought that too,” Steve admitted, then continued low and vicious, “And I’d like to see them try while keeping all their limbs attached. They’d have to knock us both out and drag us. The only way it might work is if they tossed one of those grenades through the feed drawer, but we would have a chance to flush it and hope our systems burn the rest out of our systems. They attempt to open that door and we both rush them. They aren’t going to sacrifice the ‘Asset’ they’ve worked so hard for, so we would have the advantage in a brawl.” 

“All they have to do to me is recite the damn words,” The Soldier pointed out blankly, not arguing the rest of Steve’s observations because he was mostly right, but there was a far too optimistic shine on his role. 

“Then I just have to knock them out before they finish the string, or wrestle with you until I get your ears covered.” Steve pressed, before pulling himself upright and starting to pace in agitation. As much as he took comfort from the Soldier’s arms he was never one that took well to sitting still even before the whole Captain America thing happened, always tapping a foot or scrapping a pencil across a page. Made life difficult when he had lungs that didn’t want to work and a body that hated to be still. “My point still stands that they could not knock us both out at once because I would be very much awake and fighting if they attempted that on you. We’ve proven several times to be even matches for each other and I just said they aren’t going to risk their plans. They would likely stop trying to reset you if I was putting myself in the line of fire. Also, it’s been pretty obvious for a while, today isn’t the first time my insides tried to force themselves out. They have to know, and yet they haven’t interfered with us yet which means one of two things.” There he paused, giving both himself and the Solider a chance to catch up with the rapid thoughts and pacing steps. 

When he got a slight go on motion from the seated Soldier, Steve continued, “Either they are aware knocking us out is a gamble they probably won’t win, so they are reluctant to try it, or this is the only cell in the base capable of holding someone with our strength. In that case they wouldn’t have a choice but to keep us together. I would go so far to say that if that did turn out to be true then at least one of the chairs we were threatened with is fake, and maybe even both of them. There was no actual reason Strucker couldn’t have used them on either one of us, so the fact he didn’t makes it suspicious.” 

Long pause, before, “You have a point.” 

Steve slumped a bit, “I almost wish they would try and move us, because the way I see it that would be our best chance of getting out of here without help from the outside.” 

The Soldier’s eyes flickered between Steve and the way out, before shaking his head slowly. “No. All we need is for them to open the door.” 

Steve considered it, “Risky. I was going to use the element of surprise that came from foiling their plan to throw them off balance and give us a better chance. Without that we’d be fighting an uphill battle.” 

The Soldier locked eyes with his, suddenly nothing but cold and hard edges, “Do you still trust me?” 

“Yes.” That went without question. “Why?” 

The coldness filled the Soldier’s voice as much as his eyes. “Because my orders were to produce a new Asset, nothing in there about what happens after. I won’t hurt him, but I can make it look like it.” 

“And they would open the door to break up the fight. Worrying about the Winter Soldier trying to kill their new Asset would be a pretty damn good distraction.” Steve followed along without a problem, but it was a plan he would never have been able to come up with on his own. 

“Yes.” The Soldier affirmed.

Taking deep breaths to think and center himself, the plan took shape in Steve’s head, “It could work. We should time it around when they feed us, it’s the only guaranteed point when someone is watching through the window so they will see the fight. You have to start it. Maybe pretend to sleep? You’ve lost control over yourself when you’ve slept before, we could play this like another round of that but this time you caught me off guard.” 

“You’ll have to signal me if I’m pretending to sleep, they’ll see it.” The Soldier warned, pointing out the weak spot in the plan. 

“You’re overthinking it.” Steve admonished. “As soon as I see the person coming with our rations I’ll just go over to the door and kick the bed on my way over. That could serve both as our signal and give you an excuse to jolt up and start swinging.” 

Watching the thoughts play across sharp features helped contain Steve’s nerves for a little while, but he was still off and pacing again before the Soldier spoke again. “They are going to try and gas us as soon as they realize the fight is a ruse, possibly before as a way of stopping the fight.”

“They wouldn’t risk indirect delivery of the gas if they thought you were actively trying to kill me though, so either way they would still be opening the door. As long as we’re prepared for it we could get the drop on them.” Steve refuted, “This is not the first time I’ve fought them and I’ve got a hell of a lot more at stake now than I did before. We’ll take weapons and ammo from the first handlers we cross paths with then work our way to Strucker. Taking that bastard down and burning that fucking journal is the first objective, then we are getting the hell out of here.”

“Sounds good.” The little quirk of the Soldier’s lips was not made in humor and just served to make him look even more vicious. “Now, when should I be taking a little nap?” 

Steve took a moment to consider it, “Well they usually feed us after my body decides to stop tearing itself apart, so if we were going to pull it off today it would have to be soon. That begs the question, you want to try it now or wait a day or two to see if we think up any problems with the idea?” 

“Sooner the better if I’m going to be wailing on you. Safer when he’s smaller.” The Soldier attempted to explain, knowing the baby was better protected by Steve’s body when he was small and wrapped up in layers of muscle and cushioning fluid. Each day they waited would bring him closer to the surface. 

“Then you should probably be laying down right about now,” Steve informed, trying not to show how much that statement made his heart lurch. He trusted the Soldier who was both so much like his Bucky and yet nothing like him, but this was his baby. 

Except. There was a good chance this was the Soldier’s child too and as Steve watched him turn around to face the cell wall, pillowing his head on a metal arm, and letting his rigid body slowly fall loose in feigned sleep; this was his way of getting them out. 

He was doing this for Steve, and the baby. A child that may or may not be his, that he had made a promise to protect no matter the outcome. And Steve knew no matter how much the Soldier claimed this plan was working around his orders, this was going to cause near unimaginable pain for him to attempt altering his mission objectives. 

Steve found himself blinking back tears as it hit him fully -not for the first time- that no this was not his Bucky, but he was coming to love the man he had become. 

Then he realized standing in the center of the cell crying and staring at the mock sleeping Soldier was a great way of looking suspicious, so he forced himself to move. He went through all the exercises the pair of them had been able to come up with to do in the confined space that would also give him a clear view of the door. The repetitive movements helping to clear his head and bring him back into the right frame of mind he needed to pull off this plan.

He felt loose and focused when a shadow darkened the constant light source outside the cell and flickered with the cadence of someone stepping closer, he did one last push up before standing to make his way over to the door, making sure to give the board the Soldier was laying on a solid whack with his foot in the process. 

It was less than a heartbeat before arms were on him, choking him backwards and pulling him down to land solidly against Soldier’s body, where he held strong and hit fast. It was a near maddening mass of limbs and fists as the Soldier grappled to hold him and land hits to torso and chest, hitting high and short, avoiding his abdomen through shear skill, but he attacked with such speed and in such a rage even Steve had trouble following each blow, anyone looking from the outside would surely miss the contact points. 

A small part of Steve feared the Soldier really had fallen asleep and this was a relapse, but it was feeling him carefully missing his son that had him trusting in the plan. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of blows, there was the squeak of metal hinges and both Steve and the Soldier tensed, coiled to spring. At the first sight of a pale arm slipping inside, smoking grenade in hand, it was the Soldier who leapt forwards grabbing the appendage in his own metal one, yanking hard enough to dislocate their shoulder, earning a scream of pain. Steve and the Soldier rushed out of the cell before the gas could reach a high enough concentration to knock them out, practically tripping over the handler in the hallway pointing a gun in their faces with a shaking hand his other arm hanging uselessly. Steve just kicked him in the head knocking him out cold, before seeing six other handlers rushing up the hall. 

The Soldier threw himself bodily into the oncoming group, ripping through them like a wild animal, metallic arm crushing windpipes and breaking skulls. Steve following behind and arming himself and the Soldier from what was left on the bodies just like they planned, but sorely missing his shield. They would have to make do with guns, the Soldier having his own disappointment when there was no good way of taking a couple knives with them. Remembering DC made Steve wish they could grab him some too. 

Their run through the halls made them realize the base was a freaking labyrinth. They shot and fought whenever they saw movement, stopping only to pick up clothing from downed handlers close enough to their sizes, and even then it was only pants and combat boots, but better than running naked in unknown territory. They replaced guns as they burned ammo and kept climbing, no longer caring whether they found Strucker or the exit first. 

It had to have been at least an hour of running, just going by his body clock and the fact they hadn’t encountered another handler for quite awhile, when they had their first breakthrough. A locked room, something that barely slowed them down when faced with a metallic fist, revealed the place Steve had woken up in when he was first brought here, chair and monitor still in the same place.

And standing behind that chair was Strucker holding the red bound journal, mocking the pose he had taken with the Soldier in that first meeting. “My, my, haven’t you been naughty. You have a baby to think of now Captain.” The baron chided, making Steve see red, almost diving forward until the Soldier caught him around his middle stopping the motion.

Walking into that room, no matter how much he wanted to wrap his hands around that bastard’s neck and start choking, would be the end of their escape. They’d be trapping themselves. Yet they couldn’t turn their backs on him either, and he was holding that damn book too.

“You know what Strucker, I’ve heard enough dramatic speeches in my life.” Steve decided, before raising his gun and pulling the trigger. 

Only for Strucker to first flinch at the loud cracking smash of the bullet slamming into the concrete behind him as Steve had taken no time to aim, then start laughing at him for missing.

Which gave the Soldier all the opportunity he needed to send his own bullet through the journal and into Strucker’s chest, followed by two more rapid shots into his skull for good measure. 

Captain America had always been the flashy decoy for his commandos, now Steve had served the same role once again for his Soldier. 

“I’m going to get the journal, you stay out here and keep watch,” Steve ordered, adrenaline running through his veins only making his thoughts sharper. He was literally designed for conflict, this was what he lived for. 

The Soldier just nodded, having gone silent during their escape, but there was a sign of genuine relief in his eyes at seeing Strucker laid out and bleeding on the ground. 

It only took a moment to duck into the room and scoop up the now tattered and bloodstained journal, but Steve was not leaving it in this place to be picked up and used to control his Soldier any more. He stuffed it in a pocket of his stolen tactical pants and rejoined the other man keeping watch and they resumed their search for a way out. 

What they stumbled on wasn’t an exit, but it was arguably better; a computer terminal that the Soldier had no problem hacking. From there Steve sent a message straight to his team, and now all they had to do was wait for Tony and JARVIS to trace it. An answering ping responding within minutes.

Steve and the Soldier slumped against each other, facing the terminal, watching the incoming beacon JARVIS was putting on the screen that was their lifeline and breathed a sigh of relief. “We did it.” Steve spoke first, breaking the silence.

“I hurt you.” The Soldier reminded, tracing a bruise on Steve’s ribcage with a pale fingertip. 

Steve put his hand over the Soldier’s, stopping the motion, “You did it to save me, and protect him. Your plan worked, my team is coming right now to get us out of here. I can handle a little roughing up if it means we walk free. You know that or you wouldn’t have suggested it.” 

Long silence, then, “What happens now?” 

“Now we go home, and you get to learn what it feels like to be safe again. If all of this has taught me anything it’s that you deserve a little peace after everything you endured. I’ll help you figure out who you want to be now, because you are a person; not a tool.” 

The seemed to trouble the Soldier, “What about your Bucky?”

“My Bucky was a good soldier and a better man,” Steve responded sorrowfully, before looking the other man straight in the eye, “But this Bucky right here? He’s loyal and dedicated, a bit quieter and a lot colder than the Bucky from before, but he is a good man that I’m coming to know and love all on his own.” 

That blew the Soldier away, left him reeling, and he needed steady silence to process it all before he could even try responding. Emotions were hard for him, especially now when his brain was rebelling against the death of his mission commander, the wound raw and sore in the back of his head where the annoying buzz of his orders had been. It was an enduring kind of pain that only Cryo or new orders had ever been able to take the edge off. 

When he did speak, his eyes stung, “Steve, you deserve more than a shadow.” 

Not wanting to overstimulate him when he was obviously already overwhelmed, Steve just grabbed his hands and squeezed, “It is my choice, and I say you are worthy. You are so much more than a shadow or a ghost of a man who once was. Everything you managed to survive has made you who you are, you fought and despaired and lost, and every once and awhile you managed to hurt them back. I have trouble sometimes because when we were growing up it was you and me against the world, and then we fought a war together, but then I got trapped in ice and you kept going. Just because time stopped for me does not mean I can’t recognize that it didn’t for you.”

The Soldier could not meet Steve’s eyes any longer, everything just felt too raw, so he shifted his gaze back to the computer screen and the incoming beacon they were waiting on. “Look,” He urged the moment it struck him what he was seeing. 

There was nothing small or sad about the smile that crossed Steve’s face this time, “They’re almost here.” 

“Any reason there should be two flyers?” The Soldier questioned worriedly, pointing out the two separate dots now that they were close enough to spot the smaller one out front, though the second was only trailing the first by a hairsbreadth. 

Steve’s smile grew even brighter, “Tony.” It looked to him like the Quinjet was racing Iron Man, and Tony was winning. 

The Soldier’s eyes flickered from the monitor to Steve and back, before commenting, “Your guy’s a drama queen.” 

All Steve did was raise a single eyebrow, “And you’re not?” 

“That’s fair,” At least he didn’t argue. Even under orders he did have a flair for the dramatic, example a, the job the two of them just pulled off on Strucker. And his Spiderling was a work of art, a fucking deadly one, but art all the same.

The sound of repulsor blasts on concrete had never been so sweet to Steve’s ears as it was when Tony cut his way into the bunker using JARVIS to guide his efforts with surgical precision, using first the location of the computer terminal and then the pair’s heat signature to narrow down the search. 

As the last door fell Tony walked out of the suit and Steve walked into the space left by retracting armor. There were no words to make this moment better so all they did was cling to each other, running hands along bodies long missed, reacquainting themselves with each dip and groove, cataloguing every scar or new bruise. 

They were far too wrapped up in each other to notice the stalk still Soldier, or the rest of the team standing at the door waiting, unsure what the best move would be.

It was Natasha that came inside, moving slowly but deliberately and without fear, over to the frozen form of the Soldier. “Soldat? Do you know me?” 

His face was a picture of blankness, but his eyes showed remorse and more importantly recognition, “My Spiderling.” He whispered before lifting a hand and bringing it up towards her face, not touching her until he got a nod of permission, then he lightly stroked her cheek.


	5. On The Road Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey back home for our slightly battered super soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Um, is it bad I don’t really know enough fitting pop culture references for Tony to use as nicknames? I’m old (that’s relative) and a little sheltered (not so relative), so I’ll do what I can but no guarantees of success. 
> 
> -Characters are going to start using more diminutive names for each other beyond the already established Soldat/Spiderling. These names are not used sexually, nor are they infantilizing the characters. There is nothing inherently wrong with that usage, but that is not what my characters need. In my story, these people are hurting and tired, the names are a way of connecting to each other with warmth and affection, while providing a sense of home and safety.
> 
> -Content Warning: Nose bleed, but really this chapter is about proving I can write the comfort part of hurt/comfort. The story still has a long way to go though.

Chapter Five  
On The Road Home

Hearing the soft name spoken by the Soldier had been enough to pull Steve and Tony apart, Steve attuned to his voice and Tony ready to see what they were dealing with.

Tony looked the two of them over carefully, noting the bruises on Steve in the rough shape of fists eyes not missing the area that escaped damage while the Soldier was bleeding and scuffed from bullet ricochets and knife parries. They both looked more than a little ragged, hair long and shaggy, faces unshaved, only as clean as could be achieved with plan water and no soap. They were shirtless, what clothing they did have was ill-fitting and likely stolen since he saw the exact same thing on the downed Hydra agents he passed on the way in. 

He could only come to one conclusion, “Holy shit, you two gave them hell.” 

As a pair, Steve and the Soldier glanced at each other, then back to Tony, and smiled at him with a vicious sense of pride.

There was a soft undignified sort of scoff behind them that had everyone but the Soldier doing a double take as Natasha commented, “Told you so.” 

Steve tilted his head to the side curiously at her, “How long have you been waiting to say that to him?”

A victorious smirk, “Years.” She answered smugly. 

“Hilarious,” Tony quipped, rolling his eyes. “Isn’t there something better we could be doing right now though?” 

That seemed to freeze them all in place again, not sure who was going to make the next move. Everyone was more than a little surprised when it was the Soldier who broke the unintentional stare down, “Steve needs food, and rest. We had to interrupt our ration time for this plan to work.” 

Steve glared at him half-heartedly, “You need those things too.”

“Not as much as you do,” The Soldier had no problem glaring right back when Steve was being stubborn. 

“You are allowed to take care of yourself too, this is something we are going to work on.” Steve promised him, not letting the Soldier look away, but knowing his team was watching the exchange with interest.

Natasha was the only one brave enough to interfere, and she did it by touching the Soldier, putting a hand on his arm and speaking calmly, “Soldat, we brought plenty of food and clothes for both of you on the Quinjet, and when you’ve gotten yourselves sorted out you can rest.” 

“I can take a look at those wounds too, if you want.” A new voice, made brave by the lack of any death or maiming to be had so far, spoke up from the doorway. Sam in his wingpack and goggles, looking over the bruises and trickles of blood as close as he could from his vantage point.

“How about we just get them on the jet and go from there?” Clint observed drily from next to Sam. He’d been a captive a couple times, the last thing he would want after finally meeting up with extraction is to stand around in the place he just spent the last several weeks caged debating about how they were going to take care of him; he’d just want to get on with it. 

That certainly sounded like a good plan to Steve, who only stopped in following his team out of the base towards the jet long enough to ask, “My shield?”

“We’ve got it, that kid of Clint’s, you could say he works fast.” Tony’s teasing made Steve smile like it was supposed to, and he leaned onto the smaller man gratefully as they walked, not missing a similar if subtler exchange happening between the Soldier and Natasha. 

With Tony cutting a direct path to them, and the two battered men getting the support they needed in getting out of there, it did not take the team long to escort them to the jet. It felt good to be bundled up in a soft blanket, canteen of clean water in hand, eating something that wasn’t dehydrated and processed. 

Steve and the Soldier gravitated towards each other, sitting in adjacent seats with their bodies turned towards the other, the Soldier taking a moment here and there to pause in his perimeter check in order to remind Steve to take small sips and little bites so he didn’t make himself sick. 

Tony watched them at it until all the food had disappeared before he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. His approach brought the attention of hard blue eyes and for a moment fear halted his steps, except the Soldier seemed to read his thoughts because he barked orders at him, “Get over here already, he needs you.” 

Tony took the last few steps closer then slid to his knees in front of the pair of them, putting his hands in Steve’s lap and squeezing his thighs, looking up at him with a thousand questions racing through his head at once. 

Steve rested the canteen against his leg between him and the Soldier and reached out to thread his fingers into Tony’s hair, gripping the place where his head met his neck in a grounding hold, “Just ask Tony, or we’re going to start seeing smoke.” 

“Hah hah, very funny mister,” Tony snarked and turned to nuzzle Steve’s hand before returning the same grounding touch, pulling their faces close, and showing him a sad smile as he asked, “Do you know how long you’ve been gone?” It wasn’t the first question he wanted to ask, not by a long shot, but he wasn’t ready to hear the answer to the others just yet. 

Steve shook his head, “It was nearly impossible to tell time in that place, we tried to keep track by when they fed us, but that’s only valid if they kept a regular schedule.”

“It’s been two months,” Tony informed while he took in Steve’s admission, needing the distraction of babble to get his head on straight where others used silence. It came with the territory of such a ridiculously high IQ shoved into an anxiety ridden package, add a splash of his own PTSD in there and he could be quite the piece of work. Not that any of the others couldn’t be on their respective bad days. “We’ve known it was Strucker who had you for the last month. He completely gutted his Sokovian base and took over that one, say bye-bye to Siberia by the way, not the best way to visit. That base does not exist in any database anywhere in the world including satellite images, and the people that manned it were ghosts in the system. I’ll give it to Strucker he had a hacker working for him almost as good as JARVIS and I don’t say that lightly.”

“Thank you,” The deliberate interruption stemmed the tide of Tony’s tangent, and he looked over blinking at the Soldier, and he was almost ashamed of himself when it took a full minute to realize he was being teased. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, “You think you’re that good huh?”

A quirk of lips that may or may not be a smirk, “Not sure, am I?” 

“Soldat’s considered the best assassin in the world, by other assassins, you really think the only thing he can do is pull a trigger?” Natasha broke in from the copilot’s seat beside Clint. 

“Could have sworn that was your title,” Tony snapped back, making himself comfortable pressed up against Steve’s legs, not going anywhere until they were home and he had Steve bundled up in their bed with him. 

It was Pietro who laughed outright, covering up any quieter sounds of disbelief from the rest of the team, “Weren’t you listening? He is the one who taught the Spider to bite.”

“Anyone know why that place was built like Satan’s funhouse?” Sam interjected before the jet could devolve into bickering, though he suspected the Soldier had mostly picked at Tony to keep conversation going and get his attention off Steve while he calmed down. That was one scary smart dude, emphasis on scary for the time being. 

“Probably to slow me down if I ever broke programming, which did work if we’re talking purely time spent messing around.” The Soldier again, “I had orders to carry out in the base before Steve was brought in, making it disappear being the first. I should have had a better idea of the layout, but it was essentially running blind for me too. When my mind is wrapped up in commands I remember where I’ve been, but not how I got there once the mission is over. It’s sketchy at best, and having a layout like that one increases the likelihood I can’t backtrack it.” 

“You told me once that your memories are all there but they’re buried, that you can know things without realizing you do; is it something like that?” Steve had pulled himself together enough to rejoin the conversation and try to help. 

“Probably related, the same thing that tells my brain to both bury something or bring a memory back up is getting rid of anything that’s not potentially important, how I got from point A to B is deemed irrelevant.” The Soldier agreed. “I don’t know if it’s something I could recover with prompting the way I can with faces or languages, but I doubt it considering the base was just as much a maze to me as it was to you.” 

“You’d think that would be a detriment, not knowing how to get where you’re going.” Sam mused, considering his specialty was highly targeted flight patterns he took navigation very seriously. 

“Not realizing you’ve been on a path before isn’t the same thing as not knowing where you’re going,” That wasn’t the Soldier, it was Clint. “I imagine he was given his routes with each new mission, so it didn’t really matter if he remembered them from one to the next. It would however, be a great safety measure to build into the Winter Soldier for exactly the situation these two ended up in. It took just as much luck as it did skill for their little coup to work.” 

That earned their pilot a good long look from the Soldier, and to Clint’s credit he didn’t show any signs of letting the perusal bother him, sitting loose and easy in his chair, watching the skies pass by with the sharp eyes he was named for. “You’re one of us.” The Soldier realized, getting a little salute for his trouble. 

“Hey Barnes, your nose is bleeding, you get socked in the face?” The question obviously caught the Soldier by surprise, both for the use of his name and the content, swiveling around to see Sam looking at him concern making a swiping motion at his own nose then gesturing to him. 

He was thrown off enough to obey without really thinking about it, and the heel of his thumb came away bloody, “Wasn’t hit. Mission commander’s dead, it happens.” He shrugged it off, but wasn’t too pleased at the reminder of the nagging ache in his skull. 

A rush of air, whisper of movement, and his Spiderling was in front of him, a pale hand resting on his cheek, “Soldat, why didn’t you say anything?” She chastised, motioning to a silent brunette girl sitting by the silver haired boy who had laughed earlier. “Come here Little Witch.”

“Wouldn’t do any good.” He muttered, eyeing the mostly grown woman edging closer to them, the boy trailing her as his reluctance to leave her alone shown plainly on his face. 

Natasha tucked Wanda into her side protectively, knowing better than to trap Pietro when he was this worked up, letting him hover behind them. “Soldat this is the team’s new trump card, the Scarlet Witch, Wanda Maximoff. Her specialty is a little bit of everything pretty much, but she’s particularly good at minds.” 

The Soldier’s eyes flickered rapidly at his Spiderling and her Little Witch, a quick glance at an encouraging Steve, back to the pair of women in front of him. He wet his lips, tasting blood at the back of his throat from his nose, “What do you want her to do?” 

“She cannot remove the triggers, not all at once anyway, they are burned too deeply; but she can block the pain. She did mine, and Clint’s, it works. I’ll let you see how she does it first before you decide.” His Spiderling offered. 

Steve’s hand laced with his, he would know it anywhere and he was surprised when no one mentioned it, not even Tony, but it gave him the centering force he needed to command, “Show me.” 

Wanda brought her fingertips up to Natasha’s temple at the elder’s nod, the digits glowing red. There was no noise, no flinch on his Spiderling’s face to indicate it hurt and she did not tense or shy away from the infiltrating touch, showing a bond of trust. The connection between the two not lasting long since it was just a demonstration and he was sitting in pain in front of them. 

He gave the girl a measuring stare, then checked in with Steve, before looking to the front of the craft where he could see sky for the first time in two months if not longer. “Not until we land.” He decided firmly, not knowing how he would react to someone messing around in his head. 

His Spiderling looked resigned but not surprised, “Somehow I thought you’d say that.” She observed. 

“Won’t be long now, you’d be surprised how fast this thing flies,” Clint informed, not even bothering to hide his eavesdropping. He knew they would realize he was listening in, it was hard-wired into people like them to gather as much intel as they could and it drove him nuts when his specially designed comm unit went on the fritz, lip reading was a lot harder to pull off when you didn’t want someone to know you were doing it. 

“Oh thank god,” Steve spoke so quietly he wasn’t sure anyone could hear him, but judging from the way Tony pressed closer and the Soldier squeezed his hand, that wasn’t the case. 

“It’s a shower and then bed for you sir,” Tony teased, laying his head in Steve’s lap, holding onto him around the waist. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and jolted up in a rush when he realized it wasn’t Steve’s, only to see the Soldier patting him almost tentatively, well as much as the word tentative applied when he had muscles like ripcords and was suffering what had to be the migraine from hell. “I know he’s comfortable, but you’re supposed to be getting him to bed, not making him the bed.” 

Steve choked on a laugh, drawing both their attention, “Speak for yourself.” 

Natasha, still right beside them, raised a questioning eyebrow while Tony sent him a startled but pleased smirk, glad to see him have his humor intact. 

Steve measured up the Soldier, and wondered what to say, then decided that since Tony already knew about him and Bucky, and he’d told the Soldier that in the beginning, he was going to be honest. “This guy’s been using me as a pillow since I was five four and bony as hell, nothing new there, and I still have no idea how that was comfortable.” 

No one dared breathe, not sure how the Soldier was going to react to the mention of his past when even his last name had left him startled, but Steve and the Solider had their moments of reconciliation -some more recently than others but just as important- Steve felt he and the Soldier had come to an understanding. The future hadn’t erased Bucky’s past, it just added an inordinate amount of suffering to it, so this memory belonged with every right to the man beside him, even if it might take him a lot longer to believe he was worthy of it. 

To the team’s immense relief, the Soldier proved Steve’s internal monologue was at least on the right track even if it might need to go a few more stations, when his lips quirked up in a smile, “Determination, and it wasn’t like I could go anywhere mister octopus.” 

“It’s not just me?” Tony interrupted, looking gleeful, “Cause I feel like his teddy bear. I mean not complaining, because damn have you seen him? But still, there’s a point to be made.”

Oh look at that, Captain America can indeed blush down to his pecks, it’s a good look on him. “Guys, really? This is what you talk about?” 

Soldier and Tony look at each other, then at a thoroughly embarrassed Steve, before in perfect unison, “Yes.” 

“Nothing to get worked up over Cap, how come you haven’t gone all cuddle monster on us though?” If Steve had not missed his friend so much, his glare at Sam would have held a lot more heat, as it was it fell off into a rueful smile within a few seconds anyway. 

“Cause just going up and saying, ‘hey Sam wanna cuddle?’ sounds a little odd?” He challenged, tilting his head to the side.

“Dude I highly doubt there are very many people that would turn down Captain America just wanting to cuddle.” Sam laughed. “Pretty sure they sell body pillows with pictures of your abs on the internet.” 

Steve’s blush deepened and he muttered something that actually made the Soldier laugh, but was too quiet for anyone else to hear. It made them want to know though, so they looked back and forth between the pair until the darker of the two told on the golden, “He said they have them for Thor too.” 

Speculative looks at the original Super Soldier, Tony asking him curiously, “You’ve looked?”

“The internet is frightening, but useful.” Was all Steve was willing to say on the subject. 

He looked down at himself, the blanket he’d been wrapped in long since knocked away by his and Tony’s need for contact, not to mention the glancing brushes between him and the Soldier. “Besides my abs are going to look different soon anyway.” 

And Tony found himself asking the question he had avoided earlier, “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Steve nodded, his own smile sad, “Yeah Tony, I am.” 

“Could it be? I mean, do you know how far you are?” Tony winced at the awkward phrasing, not knowing how to ask what he really wanted to know. 

There was no missing the impact of his question, the Soldier’s already rigid posture became ramrod straight and he focused in on them like a predator, while Steve looked distressed and tried to pull away from him. He quickly worked to rectify his mistake, running soothing hands over Steve, wherever he could reach anyway, and he spoke quickly, “It’s okay, I’m not going to get mad whatever the answer is. You don’t ever have to be afraid of me, I just wanted to know. I thought I was going to lose you Steve, I’m not going to fuck this up now.” 

Steve took deep breaths, trying not to panic, but he had known this was coming and Tony’s words helped bolster his courage. “I don’t know which of you is the baby’s father. If it's been two months then we were right all along, he showed himself soon enough it is possible I was already pregnant but everything happened too close together to know for sure.” 

“So there’s a chance?” Tony’s voice rang with hope, and Steve pulled him up into his space, laying his hand over his lower belly. 

“Yeah, there is,” Steve affirmed, his voice still sad, “I don’t want to get your hopes too high though. I really don’t have a clue.”

Tony kissed him gently, not much more of a press of skin, but he had to do it before asking this and he took in both super soldiers before asking. “Do you want to know?” 

“There’s a way?” Steve asked incredulously, before he could stop himself.

Tony just shrugged, “That only matters if you want it to, so give it some thought. Do you want to know?” 

Steve looked between them, ignoring the team that had to be watching, and the skyline of the city approaching in the Quinjet windshield. All that mattered right now was the two people taking up his thoughts and the tiny life growing inside him. 

And the truth was he really didn’t want to answer that question, cause he kind of thought he knew what Tony wanted to hear, and it wasn’t what was in Steve’s head. The mess of it all making his eyes sting. 

Of course, the moment they clouded over, Tony noticed and started brushing away moisture, shushing him gently. The kindness only serving to make Steve more miserable. “Don’t cry, I already told you Steve, I am not going to get mad at you no matter what you answer. Even if you don’t answer me now, so don’t think you have to know right away. I know you have to be tired.” 

“That’s just it, I do know the answer,” Steve wrestled with himself to get the words out. Looking into encouraging brown eyes and hurting, but hoping at the same time. “I don’t care if I know, I just want my baby.” 

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I’m going to try and make you give it up?” Tony felt like he’d been punched in the chest, especially when Steve gave a half-hearted shrug. 

“I’ve been calling the baby a him, and I can’t just let him go after all this, but I don’t want to lose you either. You gave me a rock to hold onto when I thought my whole world had died. Then fate threw the Soldier into our lives and you held me as a I cried for a man I loved a lifetime ago and thought I’d saw die in front of my eyes. That same man did everything he could to protect even the chance that this baby is yours. You’ve never made me choose between loves before, I don’t want to have to make a choice now.” He was spilling his heart out in front of his whole team, but he didn’t care, he needed to get through this. 

Tony pulled Steve against him, hard, only managing the move because the larger male let him and the Soldier sitting like a sentry beside them didn’t interfere. “Steve, listen to your own words. I will not make you choose this baby or me, never on your life will I make you do that. I love you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, outside and in, and right now you’ve got a little one growing inside you. Of course I want him to be mine, but if you think for one minute I’m not going to love that little bug if he’s not then you’ve got another thing coming. As a reminder the man I think of as a father was actually my butler, so hardly the first time a Stark would be running around with a few extra parents.”

Steve, feeling a surge of relief almost stronger than the one experienced at seeing the return ping from JARVIS confirming their location in Strucker’s base, was smiling through the remains of his tears. “So, he’s going to be a Stark huh? Funny, here I was thinking he’d be a Rogers.” 

Tony’s eyes flicked over to the watching Soldier, and extended an olive branch, “An argument could be made for Barnes.” And it was totally worth it to see the surprise not just on his face, but Natasha’s too. Payback for the Told You So from earlier. 

“Something tells me this is going to be a long argument,” Natasha observed, recovering smoothly, appearing the picture of calm unlike her mother who was looking at Tony like he was some alien creature distantly related to the Chitauri. 

The gentle bump and halt of the Quinjet touching down under Clint’s expert guidance broke them out of the tableau, and at long last Captain and Soldier were home.


	6. Keep On Loving You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony reconnect before a communal slumber party finds Steve needing to take care of his Soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Notes about LGBTQIA+ in this universe-There is a reason no one has identified their orientations beyond loose broad-spectrum ideals (hearts built for one love or more). It’s my opinion that in this world without the stigmas ours has, they wouldn’t use the same kind of labels. Kind of like why there isn’t a straight pride, this world doesn’t need them like ours does. Basically, the only orientations that people in this world convey to each other are whether or not they have multiple loves (poly), or the degree to which they enjoy or don’t enjoy sexual acts (forms of asexuality), but they still do not use the exact wording we do. Yes, people still are attracted to different gender expressions, but it’s seen the same as people liking blond hair or dark skin in our world (because that’s pretty much all it is to them); it’s having a type not a label.
> 
> Despite the fact there isn’t orientation phobias in this universe, things aren’t complete sunshine and daisies. Polyamory, to be blunt, can be fucking brutal as a relationship or orientation even under the best social conditions because there is more going on than just societal pressures. The relationship dynamics themselves are extremely challenging. This is coming from a demisexual (which is its own completely separate can of worms) who by sheer luck of the draw has only ever dated poly people, I’ve had good and bad experiences so I know a bit of what I’m talking about. 
> 
> I’ve also considered that the big change I made to human anatomy, making childbearing exactly equal between sexes, is going to have a butterfly effect on the rest of gender centered social issues. In this world while the two sexes are practically identical physically, they are still separate mentally, so it is possible to be trans in this universe but there isn’t transphobia. And no one in this universe would bat an eye at nonbinary gender. The line between male and female is so blurred in this universe that equality is a guarantee and there isn’t the loaded societal expectations of being seen/known as one gender or the other. Between the physical similarities and the general social acceptance, I would hope it would lessen the effects of dysphoria on trans and nonbinary folks, because I have seen the damage it can cause and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. 
> 
> The only caveat I will add is that because the line is so blurred all the time this universe is a lot less concerned about pronoun use overall, mistakes are common and in certain situations expected, when it does happen misuse of pronouns is never meant as an insult and it is not taken as such. (Steve is using ‘he’ so he doesn’t have to use ‘it’ and doesn’t care if he’s wrong. Just wants to make the baby feel like a person. Yes, I know and believe they is a valid option too and probably even more likely in this world, but to be perfectly honest even though I can hold a conversation using they/them pronouns I can’t write using they in the singular form, no really, I have tried and I can’t. I suck at grammar. Editing is ridiculously difficult for me. I can use they/them in written dialogue just like in spoken conversation but not in the body of the text, I’m practicing it, but it’s going to take me a very long time before it’s legible. For example, I have spent literal hours on this paragraph and it’s at least the fourth complete re-write, second posted one.)
> 
> The reason I don’t use the word intersex to describe my characters is because that word belongs to very real people, and I invented this fictional world purely to be crack treated seriously. (Honestly this fic was spawned because I have a fascination with writing pregnancy and birth but don’t think I write from a female perspective well, and I’ve been on an Avengers kick lately) I actually am intersexed, though it takes a blood test and knowing what you’re looking at to recognize it. I have gone ahead and used the word when I was writing and world building before, but that was when I was playing in a fandom that was already based in the impossible. The Avengers while bending reality is fundamentally based in the real world. I will do my part to keep my fictional creation separate from the real community of which I am a part.

Chapter Six  
Keep On Loving You

Water sluiced down the drain a murky grey of accumulated grime and shampoo, the warm spray never feeling quite so good against his body as it did right in this moment of quiet calm, only the sound of water on tile and measured breathing to break up the silence. 

He knew he wasn’t alone, could feel the eyes on him, but they were familiar and safe so for now he was content to ignore the watching. 

It was only when he moved to drag a soaped-up cloth across battered ribs that the person decided to act, Tony stepping into the misty steam of the shower stall but not encroaching on his personal space just yet, a tribute to the Tower’s bathroom designs. 

Wordlessly, Steve held out the washcloth to Tony, making an offer the genius didn’t refuse. 

Tony’s eyes carefully catalogued the injuries as he cleaned them, the fact they were made by fists telling him little when he knew Steve was a highly physical combatant by nature and he took damage the same as a normal man, the serum just kept him alive through it and healed him after. Except, these marks were just the slightest bit heavier on the left and it was enough to make him suspicious. The slowly dawning realization spurring him to dig deeper. He noticed the serum had gone to work on the contusions, the color already fading to sickly green. This clued Tony into the fact whoever had grappled with Steve had been pulling their punches, controlling the strength in the hits, because the serum was good but didn’t heal instantly. However, Tony was even more concerned with the fading marks’ meticulously careful placement. Not even a graze to the abdomen, when just about all of his ribcage and shoulders were scattered and scuffed up into one giant if shallow bruise. 

The last piece in the puzzle was purely Steve. He loved his baby fiercely, and would have been fighting like a devil possessed to protect him during a brawl. 

There was only one person Tony knew with the level of skill needed to make the type and amount of marks he was seeing on the pregnant super solider, and only one way it could have possibly worked. “You didn’t get these from the handlers, this was Barnes and it was planned.” Tony observed softly, wash cloth still running gently over Steve’s skin. 

Steve was not going to lie to Tony, “Yes. It was the only way to get out Tony, had to make them open the door to our cell.” 

The cloth moved lower, to his unmarked abdomen, “He hit you, knowing what’s curled up in here?”

“Tony, I let him do it.” Steve admitted quietly, too tired to fight. “He came up with the plan in the first place yes, but I agreed to it and helped work out the details. The Soldier is the best at what he does, if he said he wasn’t going to hurt the baby I knew he wouldn’t.” 

Tony froze in his ministrations, before plastering himself against Steve, trembling with everything running through his head and body all at once. “Never put yourself in that much risk again, you hear me?!” He ordered, scrambling for purchase on wet skin, and the only thing that kept them from landing on the ground was Steve’s strength and being close enough to the tile wall of the shower to brace themselves. 

“I’m always going to come back to you Tony,” Steve promised once they were settled. “I’m mixed up right now and exhausted, so I know I wasn’t clear, but I love you. I asked that I don’t have to make a choice because I can’t, it’s an impossible one.” 

Tony held onto him tightly before sliding down and pressing a kiss to the skin below his navel, tight with muscle and looking no different than it did before, but suddenly so much more. “I know, god do I know. There was never a kid involved with Pepper and I, but still, I loved her so much and she loved me back, but she isn’t like us. Her heart has so much love in it, but it’s made for one, not many. She watched me fall in love with someone who wasn’t her, and she saw how hard I tried not to touch you, how much it hurt loving someone I didn’t think I could ever have. Because I loved her, and we worked hard to get where we were. I couldn’t make the choice to let go of her, so she did it for me.”

“You still love her,” Steve knew without thinking, “Like I never stopped loving Peggy or Bucky.” 

“Of course I still love her,” Tony had his arms around Steve’s waist, head leaning against him like he was trying to hear the baby’s heartbeat. “She was one of the first beside Rhodey to put up with my crazy for more than just money or weapons, I’m not going to forget that any time soon. The fact that I love her is the reason I’m not going to trap her in something she doesn’t want to be in anymore.”

“For what it’s worth, I think part of her still loves you too. It’s why she let you go before you two managed to hurt each other so badly you couldn’t salvage anything out of it,” Steve observed, not knowing Pepper as well as he would have liked having given the CEO plenty of space ever since she was still with Tony and he realized he was causing the couple pain, but he had learned enough from Tony’s stories after the fact to figure he was making the right call now. 

“Probably, which definitely makes Pepper the best relationship I’ve ever had with a woman,” Tony quipped, breaking the tension since they’d both endured quite enough of that for one day. 

Standing up and unwrapping himself from his nicely accommodating super solider Tony hid his playful smirk. Fun fact about Captain America, his enhanced senses meant he was ticklish, so when poked in the belly he clutched at the offending body part and spluttered a laugh. “Hey, don’t poke him!” He objected, running his hand down his toned stomach with a smile on his face Tony was only too pleased he’d put there.

“Nah, he can take it.” Tony refuted, going in for another playful poke in the pure interest of keeping that smile on Steve’s face and the laughter going, he swore that was the only reason. It certainly wasn’t an excuse to touch him or anything. If the little game ended with the two of them in a ball of flushed smiles at the bottom of the shower both sets of hands over the baby, well that was their business. “We need to set you and the tyke up with a doctor, make sure he’s alright in there.” Tony realized as they slowly calmed. 

“Ah yeah, about that,” And Steve stalled out in a way that made Tony concerned.

“Steve, you’ve got to talk to me or I can’t help you work whatever it is out,” Tony encouraged, hoping they’d shared enough heart-to-hearts Steve was secure in knowing he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Steve stared down at their joined hands, taking time to get his words together to say what he needed to. “Tony if all of this taught me anything, it’s that a baby born to me is never really going to be safe. Hydra wanted to breed me Tony, like a fucking racehorse, trying to get their perfect Asset. Their goal was to get a child from me and their own Super Soldier, but if he is your son he will still be stronger than a normal man for the grace of being mine with the added potential of the Stark mind. I don’t think I can trust anyone outside the team with him, not before he can protect himself and definitely not before he is born. Is there any way we can handle this internally? I want him healthy, and I need him safe.” 

Tony took it all in carefully, putting the brakes on his instinctual response of hell no, hearing the driving need in Steve’s voice. “Steve, that’s really risky. If Bruce was here we’d have better odds as much as he’d screech about not being that kind of doctor, he at least has the biology background and I know the conditions he was working under when Shield picked him up. There’s almost no way he hasn’t assisted in this kind of thing before. The only other one on the team with medical experience is Sam and he was a field medic, I don’t know if he’s able to handle this.”

“Tony, you have at least three PhDs and those are just the ones I know about, and I know there is medical equipment here in the labs even if it is actually here for research instead of practice, plus JARVIS can do things that would take years to explain in minutes. You learned a type of science I couldn’t even pronounce overnight from a Shield briefing packet to track the Tesseract. Are you really trying to tell me you can’t figure this out?” Okay, that was a tone in Steve’s voice rarely heard, desperation. 

Tony wanted more than anything to help, and he slumped against him, defeated, “That isn’t what I said. I said it was risky. Those degrees I have? I work with machines and chemicals Steve, not very breakable little people. I don’t want to miss a problem and have something go wrong that could be prevented.” 

Steve was already shaking his head before Tony finished talking, “Tony, he’s strong. That’s the whole point about hiding him, but even if there is something there I trust you enough to know if we should be concerned, even if you might not know how to fix it right away. You aren’t going to let anything happen to him.” 

Tony was blown away by the trust, and terrified, “Steve, are you sure?” 

“There are a lot of things I don’t know in all of this, but the one thing I’m sure of is you are the smartest man I have ever met. You can do this. I don’t want strangers anywhere near him. Please Tony, help me keep him safe.” Yes, he was begging, and no, he didn’t care, he was too tired and this meant too much for a little thing like pride to get in his way. 

Tony shuddered a deep breath, the tone and look of Steve practically coming undone at the seams making him want to take all that pain away. And he thought, of all he could do, what JARVIS was capable of doing, the equipment on hand or that could be ordered without raising too many questions, and he had his answer. “Okay, we can try it. Bloodwork is the simplest, we already have the equipment on site and JARVIS can easily access databases to get the healthy ranges for everything. It’ll be a little harder to pull off things like ultrasounds, I think we have the units themselves, and I can run it with some practice but reading the output could get tricky. Once again, JARVIS can get us the healthy ranges, but we won’t really know what we’re looking at. This is still far more Bruce’s area than mine, I’d feel a lot better about this if you’d allow me to hand over the reins to him once he shows back up.”

Steve nodded in tired relief, “I’m fine with either you or Bruce, and you mentioned Sam before so we should ask if he could help you until Bruce is here. As long as they are on the team I don’t mind them being involved, but that’s as far as it goes.” 

“Good, now let’s figure out the rest after you get some sleep. As much as I love cuddling with you in the shower I can’t carry you out of here if you fall asleep.” Tony teased, kissing Steve’s temple as he stood before offering his hand to him. 

Steve took it and hauled himself up to his feet, following Tony complacently out to the main area of the bathroom, where he had laid out a towel and fresh clothes for himself earlier. He realized there was no second set beside the first and it made him smile softly to know Tony joining him had been impulse, he’d been trying to give him privacy and failed. 

Tony was surprising tactile at times, undeniable sensual, with an earthy kind of sexuality that was rooted deeply and gave almost endlessly. Steve had taken some time to understand that what the world mistook as burning lust, was more confidence and steady surety in one’s own skin. It was not Tony that burned, it was the people who gravitated towards him like he was their sun, but instead they were the ones in flames. 

Good thing Steve shared that soul deep craving for touch no matter if it were platonic affection or sexual forays, even combat felt better with his body then a weapon. He just needed to be touched. 

And to that end, he looked from the door leading to their bedroom and felt his battered exhausted body, and knew what he needed, “Tony, can we, I mean I miss you, but tonight can we stay with the team?” He asked almost shyly. If they did it wouldn’t be the first time the Avengers had huddled up together for a night, but it would be the first time they did it under his request. 

“Way ahead of you,” Tony answered with a knowing grin and a wink, “Mattresses are set up in the common room and dinner is probably getting there as we speak if it wasn’t there already. Had a little bit of everything sent up. Wasn’t going to make you go down there if you didn’t want to of course, but figured you’d want to stick close to all of us for a while anyway. Now come on, let’s get you dried off and dressed then put a little more food in you before you pass out on us.” 

Steve let Tony fuss over him, fluffy towel in hand, sneaking kisses here or there earning laughs each time. The laughter only increased when Tony insisted on helping him dress, slipping on underwear and soft grey cotton pants, but Steve swallowed his grin as he obediently shifted down for Tony to pull the white tank onto him, as soon as his head came clear of the opening Steve pressed their lips together in a surprise kiss Tony was immediately returning even as he laughed. 

“Come on Tony, your turn.” And Steve was thorough in returning the favor, though they did have to dip into the bedroom to retrieve clean clothing for Tony thanks to his impulses, black sweatpants and a faded Metallica t-shirt that didn’t quite cover the blue glow of the arc reactor. 

Short walk to the elevator and a ride to the common floor later and Steve was met with a squishy sea of mattresses, blankets, pillows, teammates, and trays piled with food. It was a lot to take in at once, and he likely would have kept staring for a while longer if his eyes hadn’t caught onto one person and zeroed in. The Soldier, sitting still as a statue in the farthest corner, with clear sight lines of all doors and windows, the converging walls preventing anyone from possibly sneaking up on him. If anyone did try to approach, they’d have to do it directly, and he wasn’t making it easy on them.

At least it did look like he had washed and changed. Steve chalked that up to Natasha’s influence, who was by far the closest person to him, but she was still several feet away. Giving him room and time to ground himself in the new space with so many people around. 

The sound that came out of the back of Steve’s throat was low, involuntary, and the closest word that might do it justice is a whimper, but that wasn’t quite it. A tone somewhere between pain and surprise and want. He didn’t want to see the Soldier looking so lost, and he needed to see it fixed. 

Tony just sighed from his place beside him, “Go take care of your Soldier. Having you to fuss over on the jet certainly seemed to keep him calm then, maybe you’re like his Xanax or something.” 

Steve didn’t just rush over, he made sure to pull Tony in for a last hug and a lingering kiss, “Tony, thank you. In that place, the only thing we had was each other, and I don’t think anyone will ever understand just how guilty he felt about what Hydra made him do. The past we shared only makes it more complicated.”

“I understand, or I’m starting to, now go and take care of yourself too while you’re at it.” Tony reminded, shooing him off with a short peck on the lips. Now, to find himself a Falcon and explain what exactly their fearless leader was putting on their shoulders this time. 

Steve though was making his way over to the Soldier, stopping to fill two plates on his way when he saw roast chicken with potatoes and grilled vegetables. All things he recognized, and he hadn’t had a vegetable in so long his mouth watered just looking at them.

Natasha realized what he was doing the moment he left Tony’s side, and nodded at him with approval when she saw him approaching with the food, but she didn’t budge, neither leaving or interfering with Steve caring for the Soldier. 

He set one of the plates in front of the Soldier and kept the other for himself, settling beside him in the corner he’d picked out -the Soldier letting him into his space without so much as a twitch- before picking up his fork and digging in with gusto, not speaking just yet both because he was starving and because the Soldier enjoyed silence while he was thinking. 

When he realized the Soldier was ignoring his plate in favor of his hypervigilant watch of the room, Steve bumped their shoulders together to get his attention, motioning with his fork down to the still full plate in front of the Soldier when he saw steel blue glance at him from the side. The Soldier shook his head minutely and fixed his gaze back to the front stubbornly. 

“Buck,” Steve called softly, naming the Soldier only when vitally important because of the exact reaction he was getting now. He’d turned his head sharply, snapping his eyes to Steve’s face, body tensed and held at full attention. Steve didn’t like doing it because sometimes it felt a little too much like whistling for a dog and he was working on getting the Soldier to feel like a person again. Now that they were free he could talk to his team and see if maybe they could help figure this out. Because this was a human being and his name was James Buchannan Barnes, he deserved to have that back. 

Well, the name worked, so Steve shook off the momentary tangent in his thoughts, addressing the Soldier now that he had his attention. “You need to eat too. My team will keep us safe here. Look, your Spiderling is right over there, you trust her skill even if you don’t know anyone else.”

The Soldier did indeed glance at Natasha, before coming right back to Steve, then looking back at the plate, Steve adding on, “This isn’t like the ration bars or even the sandwiches on the jet, it’s going to taste better warm.” 

With a huff and roll of his eyes the Soldier picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of chicken, the moment it touched his tongue though his eyes widened and there was a look of shock on his face that was almost comical. The speed at which he cleared the rest of the plate made Steve greet him with a triumphant grin at the end, his own plate finished because screw dignity he was hungry. 

“I wouldn’t push it any further,” Natasha warned when Steve started eyeing up the trays of food emptying at a steady rate thanks to the attentions of the rest of the team. “Sounds like your stomachs aren’t used to big portions anymore. Better to eat a little less but come back more often. You’ll probably want to eat like that again when the baby starts taking up all the room your stomach normally does.” 

“You wouldn’t let me eat more than about three bites,” The Soldier’s voice was quiet, and he looked like he might have surprised himself by speaking audibly. 

Natasha’s face softened and she slunk a little closer, moves graceful and smooth no matter the soft and yielding material beneath her. “Tell me more?” She prompted, leaving it open ended like the best knew to do. Get too specific and you could scare off your target or give them tunnel vision.

The Soldier felt Steve leaning against him, settling in to listen, and automatically adjusted for him to lay more comfortably pressed into the muscle of his side only thinly veiled in cotton, sliding flesh fingers almost absently through clean if shaggy blonde hair. Natasha waiting patiently while this exchange happened. 

“You didn’t kick, you danced, and it felt like my ribs were your barre.” His voice was quiet, so low Steve and Natasha doubted the rest of the team could really hear him, but the Soldier could see Clint watching intently and Tony attempting to sneak closer but subtle was never really his style so he quickly gave up and just walked over and plopped down next to Natasha. He was being good though, stayed quiet, and Steve actually had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when he realized Tony was carefully sitting on his hands to keep from fidgeting.

The little group was prepared for the story to end but the Soldier just took in the watching pair, thought about it for a moment, and gave a slight shrug. This time he reached out with the hand he’d been lacing through Steve’s hair and cupped Natasha’s cheek gently, the Black Widow moving into the touch. “When you were born you were so small I was afraid you came early, but then you cried so loud and showed me how tough you were and I wasn’t afraid anymore.” 

Steve clutched at the Soldier’s shirt, “Wait a second, the way you said that, were you alone when you had her?” 

All the Soldier did was incline his head slightly, it was barely a nod, and it was like the air pressure in the room had a sudden drop as the team took a collective horrified gasp. Steve’s shocked question loud enough for all of them to hear and piece together the parts they hadn’t quite caught from the story. 

“The cell we were just in was a lot like where I had you, Spiderling. The experiment was about proving what created the strongest children, they knew I’d survive it either way, and if you didn’t it was just another piece of data.” He explained mostly to Steve and Natasha, but he at least raised his volume enough the rest of the shocked room could hear him. 

Tony broke his silence, “Steve, we’ve got a gold mine right under our nose, why didn’t we think of it?” Yes, the story was horrific, but judging by his tenseness and tone, the last thing the Soldier wanted was anyone dwelling and picking at what he just told them, so Tony was going to deflect and get what Steve needed at the same time; win-win. 

Steve let out a terribly erudite, “Huh?” 

“Your little plan to handle everything in house? Barnes is the only one here who’s actually been pregnant, and you know, have a clue what’s going on in there.” Tony pointed out, his trick of sitting on his hands not holding up as he got deep into the idea, gesturing to Steve’s stomach. 

“Sure, if you call a constant state of ‘what the fuck is this?’ a clue,” He muttered lowly making Natasha snort in a highly undignified manner. “What is it you want me to do?” He spoke a little louder as everyone side-eyed Natasha worriedly. 

Tony jerked a thumb towards a far too innocent looking Steve, the Super Soldier trying to hide his face from scrutiny by pressing against the Soldier and while he mostly succeeded they could still see his ears and they were beet red, “Mostly I want you to listen to him. If he says something that sounds off to you, let us know, maybe it will keep us from flying blind quite so much.” 

“I always listen to him,” The Soldier responded smoothly, so it wasn’t like Tony was asking for anything he wasn’t already doing. 

Well that easily caught the team’s attention, “Tony, why exactly did you ask him to do that?” Clint demanded to know. 

Steve was the one to save Tony from answering, “Because I asked him if he could help me keep all of the medical things for the baby within the team. After what Hydra was trying to do I don’t trust anyone else near him. Tony’s worried we might miss something, but I have faith in my baby’s strength and Tony’s mind.”

He wasn’t braced well for the impact the Soldier made as he swiftly moved them, swapping positions so that instead of Steve pressed against the Soldier’s side, he was nuzzling against Steve’s waist. The overbalanced weight and unexpected move had the pair toppling backwards onto the cushioned surface of the mattresses laid out on the ground, Steve seeing Tony rearing up and only just barely managing to keep from jumping into the fray between the two super soldiers, only the threat of the Black Widow holding onto his arm beside him kept him still. 

Steve’s attention was quickly caught up almost entirely by the Soldier though, he was trembling strong enough to be visible as he clutched at Steve, breathing against his skin, head on his stomach, arms circled around him but he hadn’t lowered his full weight down so Steve felt protected instead of crushed or trapped. 

Steve kneaded his hands into shoulders so tight they felt like stone, the Soldier still shaking minutely even as he attempted to calm himself. Steve was at a loss, not knowing what caused this reaction, he’d seen the Soldier pull away, lose himself, even attack when he was half-conscious from sleep and missed food, but never this clinging panic. 

“You gotta tell me, come on, Bucky, I can’t fix it if you don’t.” A mix of Tony’s words to him and the Soldier’s name, hopefully, maybe, it would work. 

The words were dark and cold, just like when he planned their escape and Steve knew it came from the place where the Winter Soldier lived in his head. “No one touches him. It’s your team or no one. I’ll kill anyone else who tries.” 

“Tell you what Tall, Dark, and Deadly, someone tries to come anywhere near that baby, and I for one am going to let you loose; like a good old-fashioned plague upon the Earth, sound good?” Tony offered suddenly glad Steve had been so persuasive earlier because holy fuck that was terrifying but it didn’t stop him from inching closer to them bit by bit, Natasha letting him go figuring if he was that determined to dig his own grave who was she to stop him. 

“Sounds like you and I are going to get along Stark,” The Soldier allowed, not budging from his real-life Captain America pillow. He did however, allow the genius to approach without running him off, not even showing him a particularly harsh glare. Steve was proud of him. 

“Only if you budge up and share, it’s been two months, I’m not letting you hog him.” Tony took his life in his hands with those words. 

For several long incredulous moments -the team busy writing eulogies in their heads- the Soldier contemplated the genius before letting out a scoff and turned onto his left side so he could use his human arm to hold onto Steve, leaving room for Tony to flop down on Steve’s other side, curling into him like a cat. Steve couldn’t believe this was happening and was screaming a bit on the inside as he put his arms around the Soldier on one side and Tony on the other. 

Slowly the rest of the room took this in, so very slowly, and then a soft, “Holy shit, did that just happen?” Filtered into the silence, followed by, “Hey Nat, your Mom is cool as fuck.” And then, “How in the hell is Tony not dead?” 

No one really had the answers, and considering the room had been turned into the blanket fort from heaven and the far wall was one giant movie screen, they decided there was far better things they could be doing. 

They kept the sound low to avoid waking the sleeping members of the team, and kept a careful watch for signs of nightmares or similar disturbances. This not the first rodeo for any of them in dealing with trauma aftermath, both immediate or long term, so this they could handle. 

Even if Natasha was pretty sure her Soldat was not sleeping, not in this crowded room with a stranger a foot away from him, but he allowed Tony in his personal bubble because Steve needed him there. She might have interfered, made him go somewhere more private and quiet, but the likelihood of him sleeping there was almost as low just because of the novelty of the location, and she would rather have him with the team then hiding away. She wouldn’t force him to interact with anyone, and she was pleased to notice Steve hadn’t done that either only using his influence to make sure he ate. The times the Soldier interacted tonight had been his own choice except for the hurricane that was Tony, but Natasha wasn’t honestly sure where her Soldat and Tony stood with each other, just how much sway did Steve have for her Soldat to allow Tony so close or was it something Tony had in his own right? She didn’t know so Tony breaking down walls might not be a bad thing. All she did know was hiding himself away would not do Soldat any good, she would like to see him in a position to observe even mundane daily life so he had a chance of finding himself again.

It was going to be interesting to see how this developed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Clarification about the Soldier’s reaction to his name- His reaction to Steve calling him Buck/Bucky is sheer surprise. The Soldier knows that Steve doesn’t believe the old Bucky is magically going to come back, so he doesn’t expect Steve to use that name for him anymore. Yes, this could be cleared up between them with a conversation, but that’s not one they’ve been able to have. Communication is hard when you have been tortured and brainwashed.


	7. Dangerous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soldier has an idea to stick a finger up to Hydra, but will Natasha and Steve go along with it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the slight delay in this chapter, this weekend was my ten year high school reunion and I am taking summer classes at college so I hit a physical wall that took me a bit to climb over. This story has given more motivation to write than I have had in a very long time though so I am going to run with it as long as I can, no plans on slowing down any time soon.
> 
> Content Warning: Bucky pov-previous torture, very vague mentions of full on non-con, castration after the fact, and discussions of giving up mental/bodily autonomy (more notes at the end)

Chapter Seven  
Dangerous

The Soldier knew his Spiderling would realize he wasn’t sleeping. He watched the room through slit eyelids, his other senses on high alert, as Steve’s team settled down with a film for the evening calm chatter washing over him. 

Knowing she would notice he was awake didn’t mean he was prepared for her to do anything about it, and she didn’t, not at first anyway, likely giving Steve and Tony time to fall into exhausted sleep. The way the triad were laying together meant there was some open area by the Soldier that could be taken advantage of without disturbing the others. She slipped over to him and her weight was almost nothing as she settled into the hollow of his legs, pressed along the curve of his back, and pillowed her head high on his side up just beneath the arm he’d wrapped around Steve’s waist, the one Steve sent in return higher and cradling the joint of his neck and shoulders. It put him in a position of vulnerability he was unlikely to allow replicated by anyone other than Steve and his Spiderling, though because of Hydra’s damn chair he had far more negative reactions to anything touching his face without his control than his neck region. If he was ever being choked 99 percent of the time it was during missions and he wasn’t just allowed to hurt them back, he was supposed to.

“Not with your Little Witch?” He could tell she hadn’t expected him to speak, probably because of their positions with Steve and Tony, but she wasn’t the only one who could hold a conversation without being overheard if he chose to. 

“Clint’s got the twins tonight,” She responded smoothly, eyes flickering towards the human puddle in the middle of the room watching the images on the far wall intently. “They like movies, didn’t get to see many even when they were young.” 

“Neither did you Spiderling,” He reminded evenly, it was only the truth. 

“No, I didn’t, and I do like watching normally, but right now I have something better.” She admitted slowly. Then he felt her body stiffen against his and knew she was shifting the topic to something potentially less stable. “You aren’t in pain right Soldat? You would tell us if Wanda’s power was wearing off?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” He assured, which wasn’t actually a lie. His Spiderling and the Little Witch had fixed him up soon after landing just like they’d promised. Natasha knew him, or it was better to say for these circumstances she knew what it was like to be in his position of teetering on the edge of breaking free, she didn’t give him choices that would just leave him blank and confused; instead, she directed him smoothly and simply. She took him to the bathroom in her quarters, a space that was purely hers, and she gave him time to satisfy himself with the knowledge it was swept clean of bugs and devices just as well as he could do himself. 

Then she used the distraction of hot water and the luxury of soap to bring in the Little Witch. His Spiderling kept herself nude and just as vulnerable as him, and while neither of them asked it of the Little Witch she slipped down to her last layer of her own volition; trusting in his Spiderling’s judgment but not baring her body completely. 

Better to try this here rather than with him fully attentive or, even worse, with everyone watching. His Spiderling was keeping this separate from Steve as well which was another point to her favor.

And a grace to the Witch’s power was she didn’t need to touch his face to work her talent, her fingertips hovered near his temples but did not graze skin like they had to his Spiderling. Told him that touch had been a choice and wanted for Wanda’s comfort, not needed for her power.

It was a fast kind of skill, the soothing red glow pouring into the aching black agony burned into his brain from the trigger words. The first hint of her in his mind had him thrashing away, attempting retreat, and his Spiderling planted herself firmly between them in case she needed to shield the girl from his initial panic. 

He felt relief that his Mission Commander was dead, not for the first time, letting his gut reaction be flight instead of eliminating threats. With that proof established, it was safe to try one more time, and he steeled himself and waited for the tendrils of liquid magic to pour in. He felt her touch soft and light in his mind, not letting herself dig deeper. Neither of them wanted her to see what she would find down that rabbit hole. 

The Little Witch’s power felt like candle wax in his head, melted and poured until it sealed over the burned and broken parts, keeping them from the air and preventing the wounds from sending their aching protests. His Spiderling was correct, it was not a fix for the problem, not when this sat on the surface and his wounds burned down to the soul. He bet though, that with time, the wax could sink and push down until just maybe the triggers were surrounded.

Right now, listening to the shallow breathing of the genius with the machine in his chest that he had allowed near for the sake of evaluation and to please the person pressing a body exuding enhanced warmth against him, Steve put out body heat like a furnace, and now the slight presence of his Spiderling was on the other; it gave him a chance to soak it all in and think. 

The Little Witch provided a chance there never could have been before. Destroying the journal meant eliminating knowledge of the trigger words, but with her there might just be a possibility of removing the triggers themselves. Except, to do that, he would have to let someone into his mind even deeper than Hydra’s chair forced itself. She would have to get to the center of who he was, below where the trigger was rooted, and dig it the hell out. 

The thought made his skin crawl, and he broke his silence smoothly; knowing he had his answer before anyone else realized there was even a question. 

“Little Witch could keep the words from working, but I don’t want to let her.” He stated, and his Spiderling waited to respond as he gathered the rest of his thoughts, knowing nothing was ever going to be simple. “Putting aside the world of Hell your Little Witch will see if she was stuck swimming around in my skull as the least of it, I’ve seen her eyes and know there is steel in that one. The real problem is something else. There’s so little of me left that’s never been touched, that the triggers or the chair couldn’t get to, and it’s that part she’d need to be in to get under the triggers and choke the fuckers out like bad weeds. I can’t do it.” 

“The real torture wasn’t that they dehumanized, it was that they came so close but never fully succeeded.” Natasha realized, face blank but tone a little thicker than before. If it was bad for her, who had managed to break her programming and run, she couldn’t even imagine what it had been for Soldat. 

“Missions made me a blank slate, no past or self beyond the credentials in a dossier, that damn chair could make me forget I was even human if they used it right, but it was never forever. I was always still there, buried and horrified and afraid to wake up sickened at what I’d just done, but there and real. Riding on the edge of being a person and not nearly drove me mad, and I think if it wasn’t for you Spiderling, the one thing I was able to save in so long a line of misery, I might just have really gone insane.” He informed, running fingers through strands of hair the color of fire. 

She was calm and soft next to him, her warmth a candle compared to the bonfire that was Steve, especially when laying on him where his metallic addition sucked up most of his caloric intake and body heat output so he typically ran cool and had little insulation for his muscles; his body hard and angular especially during times where food was rationed. 

“I wish I could help you Soldat,” It was said so wistfully he was sure she would probably regret admitting it when she had full control of herself, maybe even immediately after speaking, but she didn’t retract the statement. 

He gave it some thought, about the idea floundering for purchase in the dark recesses of his head, something that may be crossing the line of favors he was able to ask, but since he had not been told where any such line was yet he was unsure and it made him cautious in asking. There was more than one way of causing pain and his Spider was quite good at most of them, he’d made sure of that himself. He settled for testing the waters, “There may be something.”

“Tell me,” She spoke in a tone that managed to be somewhere between request and demand. 

“I can’t let someone too deep in my head, I can’t, but I’m not safe like this. You know that.” To her credit she didn’t try to argue with him or deny it, merely continued to listen. “I am not a dog, they don’t just whistle and I come to heel; that’s not how it works. I don’t serve any master that beckons, I can only serve one master and the minions they order me to at a time.” He stopped there, and let her put it together. 

“The trigger phrases only work for one handler at a time. You want someone to set them off and take command, because if we have your leash Hydra can’t.” She evaluated, not outwardly reacting only because she suspected the programming would work something like that; considering her own did. 

“Not someone, you. I’d let Steve, but I don’t think he would do it.” The Soldier corrected. “I should warn you that a Mission Commander can order me to obey others’ commands to a point, but they are still the only ones that can completely reset me or change established orders. My handlers are usually trained in saying the trigger for making me stop in my tracks and I still don’t know how we got out without even one of them trying it, we were even being held in goddamned Russia so doubt it was a pronunciation problem. Strucker was really just that bad at delegating how I was commanded.”

He could feel Natasha smirking even if he couldn’t see it, “The reason I was so confidant in telling Tony you and Steve would probably get free on your own was because there were so many signs he was incompetent in handling you. The first being we have been up close and personal with Strucker before and the man was a bona fide Narcissist on a scale that is hard to fathom, and that is a trait that will get you killed when trying to put reins on my Soldat.”

The soldier considered it for a while and it made sense, “He did not believe he could make the wrong call and was not going to double check. Would explain why he gave nothing beyond the initial mission objective and expected it to be enough. Sounds like a man not used to having his authority questioned and I am the Fist of Hydra; who thinks to tell their own fist how to punch?”

“You are a person, not a tool.” The tired voice startled both of them and the Soldier was on instant high alert as he hadn’t even noticed Steve shift from sleep to awake; then again, he could be a sneaky little shit when he wanted to be. 

“How long?” He asked calmly, knowing Steve would realize the intent of the question. 

Steve shifted a bit, probably to get closer and keep his voice down so Tony could sleep before responding, “Since you asked Nat for your favor.” 

“You should be sleeping, you need it.” The Soldier chastised without heat.

“I was sleeping, but a lot’s happened, hard to process it all so doubt I’ll sleep solidly for a while.” Steve admitted. 

The Soldier’s eyes softened in understanding, “Treat it like food if you need to, shorter bursts more often until it gets straightened out.”

“That’s the plan, and take your own advice goddamn it, I know you haven’t actually closed your eyes at all yet.” Steve admonished right back. 

“Speaking of food, here,” And there was a glass being held out to each of them, Steve having not even noticed Natasha leave, though she curled right back into her Soldat after they untangled enough to take her offering. 

A tentative sip of the thick liquid and the Soldier realized it was some kind of calorie laden shake, the taste heavy on his tongue with flavors that flickered on the edge of recognition. Fruit he realized, though indisguishable in this form to his spotty memory, and the salt sweet of peanut butter gave it both protein and a punch of calories, the base of it thicker than milk but not frozen like ice cream and had a slight tang, probably yogurt then, and the whole thing was thinned just enough with juice to make the shake drinkable with a straw. 

“Clint and Sam made it for you while you two were getting cleaned up, they’ll have a version of it in the fridge at all times, come get some between meals and at night; whenever you don’t feel like hunting down actual food. It will help fill in the calories and nutrients you might otherwise miss, there is more in there then just what you can taste nutritionally.” Natasha explained while they drained the glasses with gusto, bodies starved for anything fresh even if they might not be starved for the nutrient itself. The ration bars were almost tasteless, hard, and dry as crackers to make them mission stable, and it was all they had for two months; this shake was nirvana in a glass in comparison. 

Steve looked at his empty glass and then down at his stomach, “I’m considering asking for more, but I’m already not sure what tomorrow’s going to be like so adding more to it’s probably a bad idea.” 

Natasha looked at him curiously and waited for him to elaborate, but got her answer from a now stretching Tony, the others wincing a bit at hearing the sounds his spine was making at having slept curled up in a ball for the past couple hours, “Let me guess, the sick part started?” 

“Oh yeah,” Steve shuddered in memory, responding without any surprise because this time the group had been moving around more than before. Tony was bound to wake up eventually. “Except with the way they timed feedings there wasn’t ever really anything in my system to be sick, didn’t stop my body from trying though.”

Okay now he had three bodies clinging to him, Tony tightest, then the Soldier with his steady presence and guilt that Steve would probably never fully manage to soothe away, and even Natasha reached out to grasp his shoulder at the admission, there was nothing they could do but be there so they would do everything they could to show him they were with him. He appreciated it. 

Natasha recovered and took his glass, then as though remembering the incident with the plate and knowing he’d never say a word she took the Soldier’s too, “I’ll bring you a little more. It’s bad to push your system so much it makes you sick, but this is attempting to get as much good stuff into you as we can without reaching that point, so even if it only stays in you an hour you’ll get some benefit out of it. After this though we should get some plain water in you.” And she was good on her word, the return trip showing the tumblers only half-full and a pair of water bottles tucked under each arm.

This round of shake was drained slower, more contented, and it gave the Soldier a chance to think about how to approach the topic he needed. Ready-made distractions were great for him, it was exhausting trying to keep up the façade of functioning, but he was the best for a reason and if he couldn’t play the role of a person when Steve needed him or his Spiderling wanted answers, then he wouldn’t be the best. He knew exactly how he was supposed to act even if he didn’t particularly want to be that way anymore, and it was as simple as putting on a coat to assume any identity, even his own. 

Then the glass went empty and with it his distraction, he broke the topic smoothly, “Steve, you said you heard us earlier. It is something that has to happen, and soon.” 

“There’s no other way for you to calm down?” Steve asked bluntly, throwing the Soldier off a bit, expecting a different tactic.

“Not one I’m willing to take no,” He confessed without fuss. “Trust me, the alternative is worse.”

“Is this a conversation the rest of us should be involved in?” Tony interjected before Steve could respond, cutting off the back and forth before it could really get going. 

The Soldier huffed in discontent, but conceded, “They may as well know, but I don’t see it changing anything.” 

The team was still awake, laying together more-or-less focused on the movie and giving the quartet privacy. Steve had passed out for obvious reasons and Tony had slept because he’d run himself ragged searching again, but for the rest of them it was still pretty early in the night. It was easy to get Clint’s attention since he was periodically checking in on them, and by periodically, the Soldier realized it was about every thirty seconds that sharp eyes flickered over and made sure everything was as it should be in the corner. 

Good, healthy sense of paranoia in that one, explains why he was still alive and why the twins were just as willing to go to him as his Spiderling. He recognized the haunted look in those kids’ eyes, that kind of steel, and why they gravitated towards the deadliest people in the room. They had survived the unthinkable and now were doomed to only find peace at the feet of something as equally dangerous as the horrors they left behind.

Able to kill and willing to kill were two different things, and as the team gathered around he was able to quickly sort out those who would have no compunctions about pulling a trigger. Three lists in his mind that all people fell into if they wanted to survive, those that would fight but not kill, those that would kill if they had to, and the final list of those with blood on their hands already and no problem adding to it.” 

To his surprise and slight relief, this team, Steve’s team, was made up of the final two only. Come hell or high water, this team would fight to live and they would kill to survive, meaning they may just have a prayer of understanding why he needed his Spiderling to do this. 

“Okay, someone going to start talking?” Sam prompted once the team was settled and listening, forming a loose circle that left the sight lines to the door and windows open for the Soldier even as he was bookended by Steve and his Spiderling to help keep him from bolting. 

No point in beating around the bush, “Spiderling is taking over my leash. If she does it, Hydra can’t.” 

Sam puffed up in rage, mirroring pretty much everyone else in the circle in that moment, “I’ll speak for all of us here dude and ask, what the fuck? You’re finally free of all that nonsense and you want to go back to being a puppet?”

“Of course I don’t, but the alternative is worse, and ripping every single one of you to pieces with my bare hands is even less attractive.” The Soldier warned, low and volatile. “I have absolutely no idea how many pairs of hands that journal went through before I put a bullet in it, no idea, which means there are an untold amount of Hydra agents out there with the means and motive to make me a living nightmare. No thought, no remorse, just killing.”

“I don’t understand,” Pietro spoke cautiously, but didn’t hold back from entering the conversation when his curiosity needed satisfying, after surviving Strucker’s lab nothing much actually frightened him any more save the fear of losing Wanda. “You were able to fight before, for your child and later the Captain. Could you not do the same here?” 

The Soldier took him in, the respect untainted by fear even when faced by the agitated Winter Soldier, and found himself wanting to smile at the boy, liking his grit. The question needing answering though, and it was a good place to start and make a solid point. “The order to kill is a hell of a lot harder to work around than with my Spiderling, which was a long mission giving me time to find weak points. Also, killing is definitely much less ambiguous than my last Mission Objective, I had a handler that might as well have been a goddamned idiot for all he knew how to deal with me, and I never would have beat even that sham of an order if it weren’t for Steve being laid out exactly how he was in the cell. Any kill order WILL NOT play out the same as either one, the commands are too direct and the mission too fast.”

“You avoided killing me once,” Natasha pointed out, more because it was true and some of the people in the room knew about it then to discredit what he was saying. 

He gave her a long look, “My orders there were to eliminate the threat, implying but never directly stating I had to kill you. Ambiguity is what allows me to work around my orders, but if Hydra gets ahold of me again we can’t depend on that, and remember you may have survived but I still shot you. As long as these triggers are still buried in my head I am a threat to all of you, and right now I am offering you a way to remove that threat without any bloodshed, you know you have to take it.” 

“I’ll do it.” Not Natasha, Steve, and it made the whole room stare at him but he kept talking directly to his Soldier and didn’t stop. “You’ve made your own choice under your own power, and I know how little you’ve been able to do that before, so I will back you up but only if you are the one that tells me what to give as the Mission Objective. That’s my only demand, if I am holding the leash then it is you who weaves the collar.”

“Steve are you sure?” Tony, and Sam, both asking the same question on the heels of each other, making them share a worried glance before focusing back on the Super Soldiers. 

Steve turned to them and nodded, putting a hand on his stomach and reaching for the Soldier’s metal one since it was closer, “He offered to be the one to have the baby, tried to spare me that pain, but when he realized I might be pregnant he immediately protected us even though he felt so guilty at the thought he could be hurting me, both then and later on, I could feel him shaking. I am going to do this for him because he got to make a choice for the first time in decades and it’s the least I owe him when he either protected my baby or gave me him and the only thing he got out of it was guilt.” 

Tony’s voice was surprisingly soft in the void left by Steve’s words, “You really offered?” The Soldier struggled to get a read on the tone, but it was mostly just curious, he couldn’t really tell the rest apart so decided to simply answer. 

He pet down his Spiderling’s hair, with her leaning into his touch, “I’m already a mother Stark, and the only reluctance I had in doing it again came from knowing what they wanted the baby for; which is why I offered instead of Steve. At least they can’t do anything to me they haven’t already.”

“Okay I’m just going to ask it, feel free to take a pot shot at me if you want to,” Clint may have sounded like he was joking, but every assassin in that room knew he was serious. He was about to ask something that may end up getting him killed. “How in the Hell did the Widow Project manage to knock up the Winter Soldier? Can’t have been easy even with programming.”

To the room’s immense surprise, he answered instead of throttling the walking human train wreck, “Burned through handlers like wheat, I killed them before they could finish. Commander could order me bred, she never bothered to change my orders to let the handlers survive it and didn’t know at what point exactly I was killing them. I made a point of removing the evidence.” Clint was alive mostly because the Soldier was just the slightest bit proud of that one, they could force his submission but by god he would make them pay and ripping off their genitals while they were choking on their own blood from a crushed wind pipe was as good a place as any to start. 

He glanced at Natasha who looked at him with blank face and sad eyes, “Your father had your hair, he was different, apologized. Didn’t want to be in that situation any more than I did. Was involved in the Widow Project for the science not the torture, no matter that the line was thin, in that place you set boundaries as you had to. I let him succeed where the others failed.” His death had been a clean one, but that wasn’t something the others needed to know and she wouldn’t need him to tell her that. 

Steve’s hand tightened on the pressure pads of his metal fingers, reminding him of his startling offer and subsequent confession, “So many times you’ve had choices that weren’t really choices, just once I want you to have something that’s all yours.” 

“Someday maybe, but I’ve got to do this Steve.” He reiterated, knowing the statement wasn’t him backing out, but at the same time needing to make sure Steve understood there was no negotiating this. 

“I know,” Steve assured, “Everything I said I meant. I owe you so much, more probably then you know or want to admit anyway.” 

“I know what the Mission Objective is going to be.” The Soldier redirected skillfully, not ready for the conversation Steve was aiming to open. 

Steve nodded at him, “Okay, what did you want it to be?”

“Order me to protect this team. Turn everything Hydra might make me do and use it against them.” He decided, before adding on knowing this was going to be the important and yet more difficult aspect of what he was asking, “Also, and this is because you keep bringing it up, you can add sub-commands. Things like eating and hygiene, plus what I’m NOT allowed to do at a given time like injure myself or others. It’s been a long time since I was a person Steve, if you are worried I’m not taking care of myself, and to be blunt I won’t be, then command me to and I’ll listen even if you aren’t there to make me like with the plate of food earlier.”

A lot of things passed over Steve’s face at once, but the response didn’t come from him, or any of the adults in the room that overheard their conversation. It was Pietro, “You need to learn to care for yourself again, like a child, be taught the things others take for granted. It will be galling and painful, but worth it. The Captain is steady and full of love, he will guide you home and help you be well again.”

“You and your sister had to relearn things too,” He observed, knowing the grit and the steel came from pain, from surviving. 

Wanda’s voice was quiet as she responded, “They gave as no forks, or spoons, only thing to eat with was fingers. So long with nothing but that and no one to care and it no longer matters how it used to be. Felt like clumsy toddlers when we were finally freed.” 

Hearing the twins and seeing the Soldier’s resolve had Steve moving to defend himself, “I wasn’t going to argue with him that he needs to take time to learn and grow, I’ve already said I was going to help him find who he was in this world. I just want him to have a choice in what he does, not forcing him to comply.”

“Steve, I know you don’t like it, and as time goes on we can try removing the commands and seeing if I can keep up with the tasks on my own, but I am telling you flat out that right now I can’t. I don’t think I can even sleep on my own Steve, and you had to coax me to eat. That is not going to change without drastic intervention. You are not taking my will away from me Steve, I am giving it to you, telling you it’s what I want. Just like you trusted me in that hell hole I know you will make sure to take care of me, I trust you.” He knew, right there, that Steve had finally come on board with his request fully.

“Okay, I’ll do it, but we are going to try that plan of slowly removing the commands. I want to give you as much autonomy as possible as soon as possible.” Steve stated firmly.

“Deal.” The Soldier agreed, and the rest of the team was able to breathe a sigh of relief, crisis averted.

This was going to be an entirely new chapter in the crazy world that was their lives, but it was a step forwards and that was something they could all appreciate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am aware that having Steve hold Bucky’s mental leash causes massive consent issues, trust me, that will not be ignored and I have a plan.


	8. The Chain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve puts on the Soldier's leash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Spiderman will be in here as the Tom Holland version, but there will be little or no spoilers from Homecoming beyond what is seen in the trailers. I twist and manipulate canon material so much it protects readers from knowing what is or isn’t a spoiler, and I’d appreciate any commenters helping me keep it that way by not pointing out any movie details that do crop up. Remember I am merrily altering the MCU timeline starting with making Ultron non-existent and letting the dominos fall from there, any later movies are subject to inclusion with likely massive alterations including Ragnarok if I’m still writing this by the time it comes out. (I’m considering mining the released trailers for material, but haven’t reached a point where I need to yet)

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Eight  
The Chain

Practicing Russian was only half the battle as Steve soon found out, the rest was all in figuring out the right wording for the commands. This was one occasion where they deliberately wanted to give the Soldier as much leeway as possible while still maintaining the status of Commander, it was a delicate balance the entire team was in on but the Soldier had the final say in all of the commands as per Steve’s deal in doing this in the first place. The Soldier would only be receiving commands he had personally either requested directly or understood the need for and had no objections to, never again would he be forced to follow an order he didn’t want. 

Steve felt sick to his stomach when he realized that while, yes, he could arrange the orders in a way that would allow his Soldier full access to his awareness, he would be nothing but a blank slate until the Mission was fully assigned. Steve would feel like a monster for those precious few moments that he was assuming his role as the Soldier’s Mission Commander and that trust felt heavy on his shoulders.

Then they had everything as prepared as it was going to be and stalling wouldn’t do any of them any good, so he very carefully pronounced the string of seemingly disjointed words; foreign syllables heavy and harsh in his throat, each word making the Soldier flinch and shudder but stand his ground under the pressure; the difference being the willingness to obey.

Finally, the last word in the string had a familiar line echo it. “Ready to comply.” Hearing that horrifically empty voice giving the route response with chillingly blank features almost made Steve stumble, but he was stubborn and this was the Soldier’s choice, Steve would keep his promise no matter how much this hurt. 

“Mission Objective, protect all authorized Avengers in your immediate surroundings from any threats that are within your skill to defend against.” He had to be very careful to include only the team and their living space, but neither exclude Rhodey, Thor, and Bruce when they return or make the Soldier feel he needed to tail them when they were away from the tower to monitor threat levels, which is how the ‘immediate surroundings’ clause found its way in. They also wanted to leave room for any potential new team members that could be added in time if this drew out longer than expected. Lastly, he had to make the command broad enough he wouldn’t cause a compliance conflict for the Soldier if a threat arrived that was outside his skillset; they were a team for a reason and the Soldier was not their live-in attack dog. They would not be making the Soldier fight against something he was unprepared for. As for the wording itself, no mention of the words kill, eliminate, or destroy even when discussing threats; any member of the team with previous experience in dealing with triggered compliance agreed this was a lot less likely to blow up in their faces if they stuck to using either protect or defend for his orders.

Now for the hard part, “Subcommand protocols; self-maintenance required; three balanced meals daily plus an additional twice daily nutritional supplementation minimum allowance, more is optional less is not. In addition to food at least 16 ounces of caffeine free liquid should be drunk at each meal, with one additional occasion outside of eating. A minimum of four hours sleep must be attempted daily, more is optimal, less should be reported to a team member for monitoring and suggestions for aide. You will cause no deliberate injury to yourself or any member of this team but are encouraged to join in physical training and requested spars; accidental damage within those encounters is the only valid exception. Finally, any physical discomfort that is worse than a bee sting or that lasts longer than an hour should also be reported to the closest team member for evaluation.” The incident with the nosebleed on the jet let them all know he had a habit of hiding his pain from people who might be able to help, considering it wasn’t like Hydra was in the business of treating his wounds it was an understandable reaction, but it did mean Steve had to add on another subcommand. The hard part being finding exactly where to draw the line between safety and privacy. Considering he was enhanced and could survive as much or more damage as Steve could, they had come to agree on those terms together. 

At last, finally, he could release his Soldier, “Mission Status: above board; Societal Infiltration Level: highest; Handler Intrusion Level: lowest; Mission Credentials: James Buchannan Barnes. Proceed with the Mission as ordered Soldier.” 

With each layer Steve adjusted it slowly smashed through the blankness and brought his Solider that much closer to the surface. The more visible his Missions were the more awareness Hydra was forced to let him have just by their very nature, and if he had to blend in with people while his handlers were kept at a distance from him then he was even further dependent on his own judgement, though awareness did not mean freedom. The closer he was to the surface the more he hated what Hydra had him do, there was no escape into the recesses of his mind then and he was forced to witness every brutal second of his own commanded actions up close and personal. There was very much a reason he had made this choice. 

The final blow that brought him blinking and shuddering back to them was using his real name as the Mission Credentials before the proceed command. 

He was back, and Steve looked into those sharp blue eyes filled with resolve and relief and trust; knowing this was a human he’d just collared and leashed like an animal, and his stomach lurched. It was too much to take and he bolted from the room.

Steve almost didn’t make it to the bathroom before he was throwing up, knees hitting the tile hard, retching violently. He clutched at his belly, digging fingers deep into hard muscles, and let the tears fall with a gut wrenching howl of pain and misery, his body heaving again and he had a moment to thank the one small bright spot that at least this time his body wasn’t tearing itself apart trying to bring up something that wasn’t there. 

He wasn’t alone for long, the sound of his distress bringing Tony to him like a moth to a flame. The smaller man was down on his own knees next to him in a heartbeat, arm rubbing into tense and heaving shoulders, Steve’s sobs ugly and constant, nothing he could do to slow them between bursts of sick. “I thought this would happen. What you had to do right there was brutal and you’ve been hit with too much too fast, I’d be more concerned if you didn’t have a meltdown. Know this Steve, I’m so, so, proud of you. What you just did proved for the millionth time that you’re the bravest of us all. I don’t think any of us could have managed what you did for your Soldier.” 

“I’m not the bravest, he is.” Steve refuted, voice wet, throat aching, but it needed to be said. 

“I listened to the two of you, understand that before I say more.” Tony warned, still running his hand down Steve’s broad back, seeing him curled in on himself and hurting so bad made him ache and rage but he tried to control it and give Steve what he needed. “It sounded an awful lot to me like you are the one that trusted him first, this was him returning the favor; correct me if I’m wrong?”

“That’s different,” Steve tried to defend, but his body was rebelling again and he couldn’t finish. The combination of the extreme upset and his baby was making conversation difficult and the next few moments highly unpleasant. 

That’s when reinforcements arrived, Steve was almost expecting the Soldier, but got Clint to his surprise.

“That kid’s really doing a number on you,” The archer teased before tossing a bottle of water to Tony for Steve. “Swish out your mouth, then drink slowly, it sometimes helps a bit.” Clint was deliberately ignoring the elephant in the room of Steve’s tears, and he really couldn’t be more grateful for the time to get a little more pulled together. 

Steve moved to obey carefully, afraid he’d set off his stomach again if he moved too quickly, and Clint slid to the floor back resting against the vanity next to Steve and Tony, taking them in calmly. 

“Pretty sure this team is just a series of alternating dumpster fires,” He observed, tone casual, then he laughed ruefully, “And it seems like every last one of us has the tendency to pick up strays that are already burning just like us.” 

Steve actually managed a smile at that one, and Tony hung his head, “I may or may not have a lead on a fifteen-year-old vigilante running around in a self-designed spandex suit; and did I mention he’s strong enough to stop a bus?” 

“What the fuck?” Clint’s response was entirely appropriate given the circumstance. 

Steve’s response was a little less explosive but just as worried, “He’s alone?”

“He’s fine for now, he mostly plays around showing off and sticks to dealing with petty crime and accidents; looks like he’s practicing to me. I’ve been a little busy lately to tap him personally and now is not a great time to be rocking the boat teammate wise. Kid’s smart but he’s a kid, they aren’t always the best with self-preservation and he’s got to have that to not end up barbequed by said alternating dumpster fires as Katniss over here so graciously described.” Tony explained. 

“You know a lot about him, how close you monitoring the kid?” Clint realized. 

Tony responded while keeping up his soothing motions for Steve’s benefit, “JARVIS taps into security cameras when there is a police tip-off saying he’s active, and he posts videos of himself on Youtube actually. Does quite a bit of the monitoring for me. Kid at least knows to wear a full-face mask, so it did take us a bit to figure out who he was, but needs to be a little more careful about where he changes clothes. Secret identities are hard to maintain in the era of security cameras every ten feet.” He might have said more, but it was cut off by the sound of Steve getting sick again, though it wasn’t quite as forceful as the last few, so progress.

Without being prompted Clint grabbed and refilled the bottle with fresh water, letting Tony try and help more directly; by now practically plastered to him rubbing sides and back; speaking lowly, anything he thought might help. 

Once the wave passed Steve was leaning against Tony, sipping water, looking tired, “Not going to complain, cause I know what worse is firsthand, but this is not going to be a great couple of weeks.” He admitted wryly. 

“It’s not like they show it in the movies,” Clint pointed out, “But there is a sweet spot in the middle, where you feel good and look pretty freaking fantastic, that part’s good. It’s when you start feeling them move, which is fucking weird at first, but you get used to it and then it’s the best thing ever.” 

Silence, shocked silence, then, “Wait a minute birdbrain, how do you know?” 

“Because mister genius, you were wrong earlier,” Clint seemed almost as pleased about being able to tell Tony he was wrong as Natasha was at the ‘told you so’ which was pretty darn pleased. “Remember the safehouse I flew us to after we got the twins out of Sokovia?” 

“You mean Old McDonald’s farm?” Tony responded with a raised eyebrow, Steve listening with interest but staying quiet so far.

“Yeah, that was actually my neighbor’s place, because there was no way I was bringing a freshly released, terrified, telekinetic and her speed demon of a brother anywhere near my kids until they were stable. I have two, Bobbi and Cooper. I was going to talk to you Tony about bringing them here where it was safer after the fall of Shield, but the series of dumpster fire analogy keeps applying.” He confessed. “They live with someone I trust that is in I guess what you’d consider witness protection. Even Fury thought we were married, he kept my ‘wife’ and the kids off the Shield books as my one demand for joining up, though the kids didn't come until later.” 

“There is so much there Birdbrain I’m not sure where to start, but the thing jumping out is witness protection; so witnessing what?” Tony was good at following rambling speeches, he was the king of making them, both because his brain worked faster than his mouth sometimes and others because a wall of sound worked just as good as a decoy as violence on certain dispositions. 

A dark look came into Clint’s eyes for a moment that he had to physically shake off, like a dog coming out of a puddle, “She’s running from my brother. We could pull off the whole husband wife shtick because she is legally a Barton, we just never bothered to correct them about which one she was married to. Both Barney and I had outstanding warrants at the time, there wouldn’t have been any marriage license in either name, so the only thing Shield had to go off of to prove the marriage was the fact Laura changed her last name officially.” 

“You want to bring them here with you?” Steve was a little less concerned with the logistics and more with the people stuck in the situation, though maybe it was driven by his own recent brush with wanting something he wasn’t sure the world would let him have, the thought of which made him wrap and arm tightly around his abdomen. 

“The kids yes, but Laura doesn’t want anywhere near this life. She hates that I’m in it, let alone wants it for herself. If circumstances let me bring my kids to me I’ll make sure she is taken care of somewhere safe and protected, but free from this constant state of being ready to fight.” Clint explained. 

“Clint, I’m not going to tell you what’s best for your family; that’s your decision.” Steve was struggling with the words and the other two could see it, but without knowing what he was aiming for they could do nothing to help but give him time to hopefully string it together. “I won’t say it’s not dangerous, we’ve got so many things that could go wrong of course there is some danger, but Clint, my baby is here too. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure he is safe from the people and things around him, and I know Tony will be doing the same. As much as what I did earlier felt like pulling out my heart and stomping all over it, the Soldier is now under orders to defend us from threats. I think, if you want to bring your children to you, this might just be one of the safest places they could ever be in. It’s going outside the influence of the team that’s dangerous.” 

Clint shifted his gaze to Tony, “Well, it’s technically your house, you have a couple rooms I could invade?”

“If you’ve ever seen Steve’s puppy dog eyes you know I’m not going to turn you down, so sure, bring your chickadees.” Tony allowed, Steve giving him an offended look, that because he looked so miserable just looked like a depressed Labrador and Clint was pretty sure in that moment Tony’s heart may have burst and he heard an actual whimper, but he wouldn’t be telling. He liked his arrows in one piece thank you. 

“You feeling any steadier Cap?” Clint asked, seeing how he was starting to get some color back in his cheeks, even if he still looked tired. 

“Yeah, think so,” He evaluated carefully, “When it happened in the cell it usually came on slow, got real bad, then backed off. This hit a lot harder, but I think it’s safe to say this time wasn’t just the baby.” 

“No,” Clint agreed, “But he is going to make your reactions interesting for the next oh, seven months or so.”

“Steve I’ve got a lot of studying to do,” Tony admitted, letting his head flop onto Steve’s shoulder, the Super Soldier running his hand through the engineer’s hair. “What you want me to do, I’ve got to teach myself so much that’s so far out of my comfort zone I’m not even sure where to start.”

“Tony,” Steve called softly, still petting his hand through his hair, “I wouldn’t ask something of you I didn’t think you could do, I’m not that cruel. I know you can learn this. Next, don’t try and do everything on your own. Clint may tease you, and Sam’s going to worry about me, but let them show you where to start looking, and how to keep going if you get stuck. You aren’t alone anymore Tony. I meant what I said before, you are the smartest man I have ever known, but that doesn’t mean you can’t find help if you look for it.” 

“You know we’re all here for the both of you, right?” Clint interjected pointedly. “Look, I don’t mean to be a jerk and interrupt when you’re being all lovey-dovey, but you two have got to start letting us help, preferably before you’re in over your heads. We’ve all got our boat loads of issues and plenty of axes at the grinder so let us fucking help you carry yours too, may I remind you that I started this whole thing off by saying the entire team was just a bunch of dumpster fires taking turns? You’ve got a baby coming Cap, that’s big no matter what caused it, so just, stop hiding from us alright? And Tony, you are going to fly apart and do something monumentally stupid if you keep trying to tackle all this by yourself. We want to help you both, but can’t unless you let us.” 

And, great, he broke them. He was dead, if Nat didn’t kill him her scary as fuck mother certainly would. He really wished they would do something, you know like blink, anything except stare at him in shock. 

“Have I really been hiding?” Steve finally broke the stillness to ask.

Clint seemed to consider the right way of phrasing his answer before speaking, not just spilling it all out right away, giving him a little credence, “You’ve been isolated in a cell with a single other person for two months. It is understandable under the circumstances, but yes you have been. Whenever you’ve gotten the chance to separate yourself out from us you’ve taken it, only letting Tony or the Soldier close enough to touch you. I don’t count Nat, you weren’t awake when she joined the group and she’s impossible to stop when she wants something anyway, all she really wanted was to be close to her Soldat without pain for once.”

“I did ask if we could stay together as a team for the first night,” Steve pointed out, not sure if anyone but Tony knew he’d asked since the room was already set up. 

Clint shook his head slightly, “Wanting to keep us close, needing to keep an eye on us, that isn’t quite the same as letting us get near you in return. You took a spot next to the most volatile person in the room. I personally don’t think he was going to completely flip without Hydra forcing him to, but that kind of pain doesn’t just leave a person without a mark. If our dissociation episodes are bad I can only imagine how terrible his have got to be.” 

“You know, I once jumped over an exploding science lab in a Hydra base, was sure I would die. That moment had nothing on trying to restrain the Soldier when he loses himself,” Steve informed. “Didn’t happen very often, once or twice, only when he was on the edge of sleep and awake and his defenses were low. We had a system in the cell of never sleeping at the same time so that we could stand guard over each other. When he told me he wouldn’t be able to sleep on his own here without intervention, that’s probably what he’s remembering if not something worse. In the cell, we had no control over our actions, survival meant we had to schedule sleep carefully, ate what they gave us when they gave it to us, and do only what could be managed in a small enclosed space. Again, I knew what I was doing when I agreed to be his Mission Commander, and what it meant for him to make the choice to go back to that instead of trying something different. I don’t know if you missed it but I didn’t, he thought of an alternative but to him it was even worse, and if that’s the case there is no force on Earth that will convince me he should try it. I will bring this pain onto myself to spare him whatever that worse fate is. It just hurts to know that for all I believe he could be free to take care of himself, learn it step by slow step if he had to, that is not what he thinks and more importantly wants. He needs this for himself, to feel safe and trusted and cared for, and even while we were still locked in that cell and I had no way of knowing when we would be free I promised him I would help him find who he is in this time. If this is how I have to start doing that until I can rip down every command piece by piece, then so be it. I just couldn’t handle the look of relief on his face when I just put a leash on my oldest friend and first love.” 

“Steve, I want it there so long as it’s you,” Every person in the room jumped and spun around, considering the bulky Soldier had managed to enter without making a sound. Though really, knowing who he was, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. 

Blue eyes were soft, distant, and he spoke quietly without caring about the others in the room, the Soldier was only focused on Steve. “You have the gentlest voice I’ve ever heard. It’s soft in my head, like a radio show, there and real but not going to hurt me. Strucker felt like bees stuck in my skull, just buzzing, all the time. DC was like gunfire, the automatic kind, fast and sharp; didn’t give me time to think. Their voices made me want to run, fight, maybe curl up and hideout in some foxhole and wait for it to be over already. Yours reminds me that I’m not alone, that I am more than just a weapon. That relief you saw was me hearing my Mission repeating in your voice for the first time and realizing that I wasn’t going to hurt anymore.” 

Steve was frozen in place with emotion, not sure what to do or say, so it was up to Tony to offer up space for the Soldier; who did not seem to care about the location or the reason for that location as he wrapped Steve up tightly in a hug that was readily returned. “I was going to have my Spiderling do this because I knew it would be painful and didn’t think you would agree, I’m sorry Steve.” The Soldier apologized after several long moments of just being there together. 

“My choice, promised to give you what you needed and you said this is it.” Steve refuted. “Natasha has dealt with enough pain, I can handle this.” 

That made the Soldier show one of his small quirked lipped smiles, “A leader to the end, always taking the hits for your team huh?”

“The ones I am able to, yes,” Steve knew better than to disagree, this man had more blackmail on him than anyone else alive, he just needed time for it to all come back to him. 

The Soldier’s hand slid to his stomach rubbing gentle circles that helped soothe the lingering soreness from the recent bout of sickness, “You’re going to be great with him.”

“One step at a time, I just want him here and healthy, the rest kind of terrifies me.” Steve admitted, bumping their foreheads together, leaning into his touch like he had Tony’s. 

Speaking of Tony, he and Clint were watching the two super soldiers with wide eyed appreciation. 

“Hey Tony?” The archer asked curiously, not taking his eyes off Steve and his Soldier.

“Make it quick Legolas I’m kind of having a moment here.” If Clint was awed Tony was floored, he was completely enraptured by the two of them. Honestly, they weren’t doing anything more than hold each other, but it was the way they fit together like puzzle pieces, one dark the other light, a perfect yin yang of heavily muscled adoration. 

Clint’s observation summed it all up rather well. “That is fucking gorgeous is all I wanted to say,”

“Oh, trust me, I fully realize this, very, very much.” Tony felt like he couldn’t breathe, really it was just so cliché, and maybe just maybe there was a reason things became traditions. 

Clint looked back and forth between the entwined soldiers and Tony several times, before making his next observation. “So, just throwing this out there, but that baby is going to be motherfucking beautiful, don’t care which of you managed to knock him up.” 

Tony didn’t even miss a beat, “You know what Birdbrain? I was just thinking the same thing.” The thought of a rumpled Steve looking tired but triumphant holding a tiny dark-haired newborn made him physically ache. 

Apparently even super soldiers cant cuddle forever on bathroom floors, or maybe they can but chose not to, and they pulled apart. Now that he was calm and in little danger of getting sick again Tony pointed out the spare toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet to Steve, the rest giving him a few moments to pull himself together before going back out to the team. 

The common area was still mattress haven so it was a free-for-all of good nap spots. Tony flopped down first, in the middle of the squishy sea just kind of seeing what would happen, and was pleasantly surprised when he was immediately joined by his personal radiator of a boyfriend. A little slower and a lot more reluctantly came the Soldier, who tucked himself in beside Steve very gingerly, not liking the exposed area as much as he had the defensible corner but not actually objecting, and they had made a point of giving him flexible orders that allowed for him to control aspects of his life, such as sleep timing and type of food at meals. Though they were careful to use the words appropriate locations to control his sleep patterns or he would attempt to sleep while keeping up his hypervigilant watches, something he admitted to outright in the planning stages. They said he had to attempt four hours a day but didn’t include the word consecutive in case of nightmares or other disruptions outside his usual conscious control, but that also meant he could work around the order if he felt like it. 

With the triad down, the others started filing around them, some getting close but not quite touching the Soldier. The only ones who might have were Wanda and Natasha but considering he was already worked up they didn’t want to crowd him on top of that. 

Slowly, very slowly, sleep claimed them one by one until all that was left were Clint and Natasha who were quietly discussing a very personal retrieval mission involving two small humans. Then at last, even those two found a good place to stop, feeling confident, and drifted off to join the others in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not relegating Laura Barton to being a side character because I hate het or anything like that (I don’t for the record), it’s a much sillier reason. My name actually is Laura and I find it really awkward to write using a character with my own name. I adjusted who she was to keep her important to Clint but not someone I’m going to have to keep writing all the time. This meant I also changed the name of Clint’s daughter since she wouldn’t have the first initial of his wife anymore. Bobbi Morse (Mockingbird) was Hawkeye’s wife not daughter in the comics but I’ve switched around enough already I borrowed the name for this.


	9. Not Gonna Get Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhodey comes home and the team learns just what he's been fighting the State Department about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the closest I will get to dealing with the Accords in this fic, and I am completely bastardizing them for my own purposes. My purposes being T’Challa. Peter was always intended to be included in this story because Spider-Man is actually my favorite Marvel character, I was just deciding which version to use. I wasn’t sure if I could fit T’Challa in this universe, but Black Panther is amazing and I don’t care what kind of literary back flips I have to do, he’ll be here. 
> 
> Clint’s family and Peter will be joining soon, there’s just some housekeeping I need to do first. 
> 
> Content Warning: The Soldier goes into detail about his mindset around killing. Also Steve uses Bucky's leash. I won't tag future uses, but considering this is the first I decided to error on the side of caution.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Nine  
Not Gonna Get Us

Most of the next few days were a holding pattern of building their strength back up and remembering what it was like to be home, or have one in the first place as the case was for the Soldier. Tony spent every waking moment of the time glued to the screen of his tablet, soaking in medical books and operational guides for the equipment he didn’t already know how to use. Steve had to bodily remove the thing from his possession and bring him to the table or the bedroom when it was time for food or sleep. 

Then Rhodey came home, tired, military uniform rumpled, and all but collapsed at the table the others were eating lunch at, his mumbled thanks at Sam dropping a plate of spaghetti in front of him was swallowed up by the speed at which he dived into the food. 

The others recognized they would not be getting any answers until he was finished so they returned to their food, albeit at a mostly slower pace. 

Finally, the last bit of sauce disappeared on a slice of bread and he spoke bluntly, “I hate the State Department.”

“What are they trying to do now?” Tony asked in a mix of curiosity and concern. 

“Trying to make us all illegal for one, everything since the fall of Shield in DC would retroactively be declared acts of terrorism.” Rhodey raged. “We all know this team operates in a legal grey area as it is, but apparently the Avengers are running out of the goodwill earned by saving New York from an alien invasion and nuclear strike at the same time.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed in icy anger, but she controlled it from long years of practice, “You wouldn’t be this out of sorts if all they wanted was to stick us in a jail somewhere, so what’s their angle?” 

“I kind of wish jail was the bargain, it would be a hell of a lot simpler,” He admitted, which made Steve and the Soldier take notice and grow suspicious they knew where this was going. “They want us to come back under the supervision of the government, anyone who does is legal, anyone who doesn’t is subject to full prosecution.”

There was an honest to god growl in the room, “It’s a fucking registry.” The Soldier had been calm and compliant these last few days, this, was everything they had ever been warned about the Winter Soldier. 

Steve put a steadying hand on his arm, held so tense the muscle was like a rock under his hand, “Can’t say I disagree. When powerful people start making lists of us vs them, it’s never going to end well.” 

“Any headway at all in getting us not rounded up like cattle?” Clint asked with characteristic directness. 

Rhodey sighed and no one missed Steve wrapping himself around the Soldier to keep him steady through this conversation. He wouldn’t prevent him from leaving if he wished it, but at the same time knew it would be hard to hear if he did choose to stay. It was a hard line to follow. “They are determined to see the Avengers with some kind of official oversight, the only thing I can possibly maybe see being negotiated is how direct that oversight is.” 

“You’re talking about putting a buffer between us and the government?” Steve realized, mind already racing over possibilities.

Rhodey nodded, “That’s what Shield was while you guys were first getting started. You need something like that again. A legitimate organization I can wave in their face and go ‘no thanks, sorry, already got it covered’ when they tell me we need a babysitter. They will still insist on monitoring us, I can’t prevent that I don’t think, but I can keep them from interfering with our every move.” 

“How closely monitored?” Sam inquired worriedly, “We talking something like house arrest, or more like lo-jacking a car?” 

Rhodey thought about it, “They’re pretty rabid, but considering any terms would have to be passed by ethics boards at least superficially I could probably get it somewhere closer to the second. Tower off limits because this is our living space, but the moment we leave it we are fair game for regulations.”

“This is like building our own internment camp.” The Soldier warned, not fighting to get out of Steve’s hold on him, but definitely not happy about any of this; at all. “At least I was able to choose who has my leash.” 

Pietro and Wanda were edging over to the pair of distressed soldiers, Pietro speaking first. “This anger, it’s personal, isn’t it?” He realized. 

The Soldier nodded, “And you two?”

“Our father used to wake up howling from his sleep, about horrors he could never speak of in the day. There was darkness in his eyes I’ve only seen a few times since.” Wanda informed softly. “He was a child when they came for him.”

“Jewish?” The Soldier asked gently, surprising the watching team with the tone when he was still so obviously distressed. 

She nodded, “You were too once, weren’t you?”

His lips quirked up and he nudged Steve’s shoulder with his cheek, “How else do you think I managed to befriend a tiny tornado of righteous fury and fists? He hates bullies, and I happened to attract them like magnets. Even if I did have to haul his little ass out of the fights he ended up in I did still appreciate the sentiment.” 

“You didn’t have to add on the last part,” Steve grumbled, red in the face. 

“Cap, we’ve all seen the pictures of you before the Serum, you were all of ninety pounds soaking wet. Pretty sure we know he was the one ending the fights, even if it’s just as safe a bet you were starting them.” Clint pointed out. 

“That was when he was full grown, imagine him as a kid,” The Soldier encouraged. “Was about four foot nothing, overall just ridiculously tiny, and his hair looked remarkably like dandelion fluff.” 

“I’m sorry Cap, but that is fucking adorable,” Sam sniggered and Steve buried his burning face into the Soldier’s readily available shoulder, huh, convenient placement. 

“As much fun as it is to tease our fearless leader, we do kind of have a major problem to solve.” Natasha pointed out a little regretfully, but only after the laughter and smiles had time to die down naturally. The team deserved to take whatever chance they got to relax even if it was only a few minutes during the course of a difficult conversation. 

“Um, what I’m getting from all this -other than the fact this is bringing up some pretty dark shit in three people I really don’t think is such a good idea to piss off- is that the State Department is flipping out because we don’t have oversight right?” Tony checked in, getting a nod from Rhodey. “Alright, so this team is a mismatched pile of citizenships that may or may not be valid depending on who you ask, so how exactly are they planning on enforcing any single country intervention? Give me the justification in as close to their actual wording as you can.”

Rhodey rubbed at his temples, but knew Tony long enough to trust when he was legitimately on to something and not just grandstanding, so he answered, “Their major argument was since we operate out of the USA we should be governed by them. Also, Tony, let’s not be so open about the murky legality we have stewing around this place. I have enough of a headache just getting the twins by the State Department, and don’t even get me started on Barnes. As far as they know he doesn’t exist outside of history books yet.” 

“From what I’m hearing, I have no problem with that,” The Soldier muttered darkly, only loud enough for Steve to hear due to proximity.

Tony was thinking rapidly, drumming his fingers on the table to give himself something to do with them as he brought his thoughts together, “Sounds to me like they are just trying to talk a big game, but don’t actually have a leg to stand on. We might have the base of operations in the US, but we are not an extension of the United States military so the government has no claim to treat us like it. We run just as many missions outside US borders as we do inside them, which could give other countries the chance to weigh in their opinion, but I’d rather not open up that can of worms by pointing out that little tidbit. I think there might be another option though, I hear Switzerland is nice this time of year.”

“A neutral party.” Natasha picked up the thread. “Oversight by someone that the US can’t argue with in terms of legitimacy, but we can live with as far as breathing room goes. Now I don’t think for a second you mean actual Switzerland, so where do you really have in mind?”

“I think it goes without saying that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room, right?” Tony actually waited for a nod from everyone before continuing, “I’ve made an unusual contact that may be able to help us now. While JARVIS and I were tracking down leads looking for Strucker’s base we intercepted a transmission from a smuggling operation; it was targeting a shipment of vibranium coming out of Wakanda and we were able to tip King T’Chaka off about it. We’ve kept up communications, not often, but enough to know he’s a good guy. I suggest we bring the issue up to him and see if there might be anything he would be willing to do. If there is anything Wakanda understands it is protecting yourself and it really doesn’t get much more neutral.” 

“Okay, you’re not talking about playing the system, you mean to take us completely out of it.” Clint realized. “Wakanda doesn’t mess around with that kind of thing.” 

Tony considered the statement, “I don’t want to do anything too drastic unless we have to, but if what Rhodey is saying is right I want nothing to do with it. I agree with Barnes, if we try to play it the way the State Department wants us to we are going to trap ourselves here, and we won’t even get the luxury of choosing who has the key.”

“If the Wakanda angle doesn’t work though, what’s the backup?” Rhodey had been working on this for months, the State Department was not going to be giving up any time soon. 

“I could always pay them a little visit,” Yeah, if it was absolutely anyone else, it might have been a joke, but considering it was the god damn Winter Soldier they were inclined to take him seriously. 

Steve just leaned into him with a sigh, “Buck, no.” The lack of anything more robust just made the team eye Steve up with a tad more caution himself. 

The Soldier was undaunted, “Please?” A hint of the Brooklyn charmer he was a lifetime ago lit up his features and it made Steve want to melt, except for the little detail about the context. 

Steve took action, lifting the Soldier’s chin and forcing eye contact, commanding in a firm but level tone; “Stand down!”

Steve had been sitting in the Soldier’s lap ever since the first sign of upset, and he felt the body under him go slack at the order, only enough tension in place to keep the pair from toppling to the ground. The Soldier looked at Steve from under thick lashes balefully, but didn’t try to argue with him again.

“Damn, and I thought Steve’s puppy dog eyes were bad,” Tony’s shocked comment brought the attention of both super soldiers considering they were beside him with only Steve’s now empty chair between them. 

“Oh no, he was always better, I could never say no to him.” Steve corrected. 

“Which would be so much more reassuring if he wasn’t doing that to try and get you to let him massacre some bureaucrats.” Tony pointed out, “I mean pretty sure we’ve all had those days, it’s the actually doing it part that’s a little different.”

“Tony, he’s protecting us,” Steve informed levelly, before burying his face in the Soldier’s neck to muffle the next words. “Those were his orders when I took his leash.”

“I hate bullies too, and these are bullies with actual power.” The Soldier pointed out. “Wouldn’t even need to take them all out, three tops, maybe two, and the rest will cave with a little incentive.” 

“Soldat, we are trained to think that way, they are not.” Natasha interrupted smoothly, bringing the team’s attention to her. “Yes, I was thinking the exact same thing he was, and Clint probably was too, and I wouldn’t be surprised at all if it at least crossed Steve’s mind since it is a valid tactic and that’s his specialty. Soldat is likely to say things Clint and I have learned not to, not because the thoughts aren’t there, but because we have practice in not saying them. Soldat doesn’t have that yet, but he will, and he’ll probably learn faster than either of us did.” 

The Soldier went stiff in Steve’s hold and tapped his shoulder in a tell older than the war that brought them both there no matter how circuitous, so Steve immediately let him up without further prompting, the Soldier stalking over to the Widow’s chair -and stalking was the only word for the way he moved in that moment- gripping the back in a way that suggested he was just barely holding back his strength. He wasn’t angry, just overwhelmed as far as Steve and Natasha could tell, so they were both content to let him take the time he needed to work up to words without intervention.

He spoke in a quiet voice, an edge of an accent half a world away from Brooklyn, from somewhere in a land of ice and snow, the land that bred the Winter Soldier, “No Spiderling, this time you’re wrong. I already know the way I think is not the way they think, but holding my tongue would not do them any good. My solutions are fast, usually silent, and always lethal. That is how I am. They deserve to know it.” 

Steve spoke while everyone else was still quiet, and he got the Soldier’s attention with the use of his name, “Buck, you were our sniper, the eyes that covered our backs and calculated who to pick off when to keep us alive. You were easily the most directly lethal Howlie. I am not surprised at all that after being ordered to protect and then hearing about this oversight nonsense you would start thinking of the least number of bullets needed to make it stop.” 

“Steve, I’m trying to say I won’t just take a kill shot or not anymore, I am going to actively seek the fuckers out. It’s how I think.” You simply could not witness the endless stream of nightmare after nightmare and not harden yourself. Hydra had changed him. 

“And I’m saying Nat was right, I did think of that as an option, but right now we have alternatives that don’t require bloodshed so we should use them.” Steve advised. 

The Soldier looked so genuinely frustrated in that moment that intervention was required, “Wait a second, do you WANT us to be afraid of you?” Sam asked incredulously. “Cause not gonna lie, you can be scary as fuck, but Steve trusts you enough to cuddle up to you when he’s pregnant. I know he’s a lot of things, and while reckless is the top of the list, he isn’t stupid.”

The words were so hard, sticking in his throat, that he started to pace in agitated frustration; a habit he’d picked up from Steve in the two months stuck in a tiny cell together if he hadn’t picked it up before and was simply relearning it. “Don’t need to be afraid of me.” The Soldier started. “Won’t hurt YOU.” He stuttered to a stop there for another agitated few moments of pacing but they knew he wasn’t finished, so gave him time. “Hydra, they broke something, deep in me. Won’t turn my gun on an innocent, not unless someone gets me in that motherfucking chair and breaks Steve’s leash, but I don’t think I’ll ever really feel anything again when I pull a trigger. Cause that part of me? It died. Over seventy years of watching a waking nightmare and being able to do nothing about it.”

Sam thought he got it, “This isn’t about us being afraid of you, this is you not liking your own reactions and trying to get help?” He guessed.

“That’s just it,” The Soldier responded without inflection, “I don’t have a problem with the way I think, not anymore. Like I said, that part of me died, so long ago I don’t think there is anything left of it to find. I don’t want to change, I wanted to warn you that is what you were dealing with if there was ever a reason to set me loose.” 

“I think I can honestly say, for the whole room, no one ever doubted it.” Tony’s response shocked the Soldier pretty completely if the expression was anything to go by. “Look Terminator, we are a hodgepodge of Molotov cocktails ready to go off at a moment’s notice, adding one more to the bunch was not done on a whim. We knew exactly what we were doing when we were working to bring Steve home, that he wouldn’t be alone. To be frank you have shown more control over yourself then we were expecting for the amount of shit you’ve been through; so this? Not surprising.”

Rhodey addressed him directly, “The State Department doesn’t know about you, despite the fact I’ve known you were involved for months, because I am deliberately giving them the runaround. You deserve time to yourself before you are inundated with unnecessary bullshit. At the time this whole thing started the only thing we had to go off of was what you were like under full command of those Bastards, not what you’ve managed to salvage of yourself now, and we still covered for you. I think you’ll find we are a lot harder to frighten off than you seem to think.” 

“To be fair, the core team was brought together fighting an alien army; that has to count as a pretty powerful bonding experience.” Clint pointed out. “And the rest of you came together to fight when you were needed, even if you might have been scared and in pain or didn’t know who the fuck we were -looking at you Sam-, you still fought because it was the right thing to do or because there was nothing else you could do.”

“What they’re saying is welcome to the club, we’re all a little broken and have backstories long enough to fill libraries, so you fit right in.” Tony finished up. 

Natasha looked at the Soldier seeing his still shocked expression, “Not the response you were expecting was it, Soldat?” She teased gently. 

“No,” He admitted softly, coming to stand by her again, this time gripping her shoulder gently in a wordless apology for his potentially intimidating actions earlier. 

Steve knew he needed time to sort his thoughts, preferably without everyone staring at him, so he drew the focus back to the problem at hand. “Alright. Sounds like the problem at the State Department needs to be addressed as soon as possible, so Tony how quickly can you get in contact with King T’Chaka?” 

“I can send a message today, his response time varies though, he is royalty of a very powerful nation after all.” Tony warned. “Anything specific I should or should not mention Rhodey?” 

He thought about it, “Make sure to tell him the specific terms the State Department gave us, because it’s a pretty obvious Catch 22 that will likely get his attention. I really don’t see any reason to avoid saying anything, other than getting too long in an initial message can sometimes make important people ignore or hold off on reading if they are short on time.” 

“Got it Honey Bear,” Tony gave him a little salute and pushed his chair away from the table to go contact T’Chaka, giving a short peck on Steve’s cheek as he left. 

“I realize now might not be a good time for this, but if it has baring on the topic, I feel like I should at least vaguely get that reference. What’s a Catch 22?” Steve asked sheepishly after Tony left. 

“It’s a phrase that comes from a book title,” Rhodey answered, “You’d actually probably like the book now that I think about it, but the phrase means a situation in which we are given a choice that goes badly no matter how we decide. In our case we either register with the State Department and hand ourselves over to whatever asinine regulations they come up with to control the movements of the Avengers, or we don’t register and are still subject to prosecution and whatever asinine regulations they come up with to control the Avengers. We are screwed no matter what choice we make, with the marginal difference being if we play along like good little puppets we won’t get branded terrorists. In the short run at least, but I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them.” 

“Hence Tony negotiating with the King of Wakanda, who is notorious for not getting involved with anything outside of his borders.” Clint pointed out. 

Steve rubbed his neck in a nervous tic, “Okay all I know about Wakanda is that the metal to make my shield came from there. I was a little busy fighting a war to learn more about it, so anyone care to tell me what the chances are of this actually working?” 

“Too many variables to know for sure,” Natasha admitted. “Tony knows something we don’t, or he wouldn’t be trying this at all. Clint’s right, Wakanda never opens their borders for anyone, but at the same time he might not be asking for that exactly. I’m going to keep using the Twin’s puzzle analogy because it’s a good one, we’re missing a piece here.” 

“Or several,” Clint interjected. 

The Soldier realized something, “He doesn’t think his plan will fail.”

“What do you mean Soldat?” Natasha encouraged, could see him fitting pieces together rapidly behind steel blue eyes. 

The Soldier’s eyes landed on Rhodey, “You asked him what the backup was if his idea failed, and he never replied. I did, but he never gave an alternative. Never even encouraged the rest of you to look. He truly believes in his plan.”

Sam looked between the Soldier and Natasha, “Just how big a secret might Tony know about Wakanda from interfering in a smuggling operation?”

A considering look between mother and daughter, Natasha answering, “That depends on what was being shipped. The bigger the payoff the harder a smuggler will fight for it, so the more prepared any recovery operation has to be. Tony said he was able to tip off the king to the smugglers’ plan, but not at what point. If it was already in progress then whatever Wakanda did to reclaim their property might just be what makes Tony so confident.” 

“And why he didn’t want us telling anyone how he knows the King.” The Soldier added, as the thought occurred. 

Sam spoke up, “Tony was in and out all the time in a suit, following leads on Steve and Bucky, we wouldn’t know unless he decided to tell us if he was going out for something different.”

“And I’ve been dealing with these State Department assholes or off tagging Hydra agents with you, I couldn’t have gone with him.” Rhodey agreed. “I’d like to say Tony’s too smart to go off and do something like that on his own, but Iron Man got a little too used to working solo before the Avengers came along, and Steve I swear your reckless is contagious. Stop that.”

“Sorry?” Steve offered up meekly, but the smile threatening to break out on his face was completely ruining any innocence he might have been going for. 

“Yeah, yeah, somehow, I really don’t think you mean that,” Rhodey responded drily. 

“This punk?” The Soldier interrupted, landing a fist softly on Steve’s blond hair, messing it up, “Of course not, think his middle name should be reckless.”

A pointed cough, and unafraid murmur, “You know I’ve heard some stories.” Pietro was grinning at them. “This recklessness, it is a mutual thing isn’t it?” 

“Nah, I was pulling him out of the fights he ended up in. Not reckless.” The Soldier disagreed. 

Steve gave the Soldier a very long look, before saying carefully, “Not without you.”

The Soldier looked startled for a moment, then, “Okay, maybe a little reckless, but to be fair, pretty sure you were involved in all of it.”

Rhodey snorted, “Told you it was contagious, bet it’s genetic too.”

Steve’s eyes got huge and horrified, his hand went to his stomach, “Oh god, never thought of that.”

“Serves you right for all the heart attacks you gave your Ma, coming back all bloodied up and wheezing from fights I had to yank you out of.” The Soldier had a little smirk on his face, which considering for once he wasn’t half buried in Steve, the other’s had a chance to see how handsome he actually was. They already knew the person underneath was incredible, but damn, no wonder he had half of Brooklyn tripping over themselves before leaving for the war.


	10. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Soldier finally gets a moment alone with Tony, and they get a chance to clear the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have written this chapter on accident. I meant for the conversations to happen but they turned out a lot longer than I realized they would be and ate up the whole thing. T’Challa will appear in the next one, and from there the pieces will fall together rapidly.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Ten  
Confessions

“Stark, we should talk.” The Soldier had wanted to do this practically since he got to the Tower but found that sneaking away from the team was child’s play compared to dodging Steve when he didn’t feel like explaining where he was going, and on top of that he’d needed to do it at a time when Tony was alone. All in all, this little confrontation had not been an easy feat. 

He had taken advantage of the opportunity sending the message out to the Wakandan king had afforded and followed Tony as soon as Steve was sufficiently distracted to give them a few moments to themselves. 

His voice -no matter that he’d spoken quietly in the high-tech garage that passed as Tony’s lab- made the other man startle and turn, hand going to his wrist where a band of metal sat, the Soldier recognizing the device as one that could summon all or part of his Iron Man suit; useful. 

“I’m getting you a fucking bell,” Tony grumbled, slowly relaxing as he realized the Soldier was calm and complacent again, no longer visibly irritated like earlier. 

The Soldier felt his lips quirk up, “Ah, but who would bell the cat?” 

“Holy shit, you got that?” Tony asked incredulously. 

The Soldier couldn’t help it, he rolled his eyes. “You do know how old that story is, right? Yes, I know it, even if my brain does resemble swiss cheese.” 

“Any luck filling in the holes?” Tony seemed pretty honest in his curiosity there.

“Slow and steady, a little more comes back every day.” The Soldier admitted, running a hand roughly through his loose hair in a similar nervous tic as Steve had when he rubbed his neck. 

“You wanted to talk Mr. Freeze?” Tony prompted, coming to the other side of his workbench and leaning against it, removing some of the obstacles between them even if there was nothing he could do about the height difference keeping them from meeting on precisely the same level. 

The Soldier studied him for a moment. “I know what Steve’s told me, that you talked about our history and what it means for the two of you, especially knowing what I have done to you personally. I’m glad you could see past my actions and give Steve the chance he deserves. He needs you. Only, and this is selfish, I don’t want to be apart from him again. Just because you could accept me enough to give Steve your love does not mean you will allow me to stay so close as things settle, so, yes, we need to talk.” 

“This is about Steve?” Tony asked a little suspiciously. 

“Not exactly.” The Soldier refuted. “This is about us, who we are when he isn’t in the middle. We need to sort out our shit so we can do more than tolerate each other when the adrenaline rush dies out. I guarantee you if we don’t do this it’s going to be us with the regrets, because the last thing either of us wants is to hurt Steve but I’m not so sure about each other yet.” 

Tony thought it over, the speed of his thoughts had him fidgeting, tapping his fingers along his arms where he had them crossed loosely in front of him. If there was anything the Soldier had picked up on in the last few days it was that the genius was never still, but it was a simple thing for him to turn the movements into a weapon of distraction and persona. He was not subtle like the Soldier or the Widow, but no less able to confuse and deflect, there was an art to what he did. 

Then Tony turned abruptly, hands placed firmly on the workbench so he wouldn’t give his thoughts away, not able to look at the Soldier as he spoke but at the same time it did say something that he was willing to show his back to the assassin. “You know there was a time, right after Steve told me what they dug up chasing Zola, that I thought if I was ever in the same room with you there would be nothing in this world that would keep me from trying to kill you. Wasn’t sure I could actually pull it off, but I would sure as hell try.”

“You want a spar, it’s yours. I can’t deliberately hurt you, but there’s nothing stopping any of you from trying to kill me.” The Soldier pointed out. “I don’t even think I’d be particularly surprised if it came from certain areas.” 

“Two things, first being, oh fuck no.” Tony thought he was keeping it together fairly well in the face of such a frank confession. “The second; this team does not work like that. We know you are on a choke chain so we aren’t going to fuck with that, not the least of which because our Captain has the key to your leash. There isn’t a single one of us stupid enough to give him a reason to set you loose, because we may tease our fearless leader but we also know he would do it in a heartbeat if he thought he needed to. Everyone drools over his body, when it’s his mind that makes him so impressive.” 

“Always was,” The Soldier agreed, “But we’re talking about Steve again. As much as I do enjoy that topic, we don’t have time. We have about twenty more minutes before he notices I’m not in any of my normal places and starts looking for me, maybe thirty if Spiderling figures out what I’m doing and runs interference.” 

“You can’t turn that part of yourself off, can you? The spy part that’s always judging a situation like you’re on a mission.” Tony mused.

The Soldier shook his head, “No, some habits are just too deep. Even when I was under Hydra control and had no choice, I was still doing it. It was like being caught somewhere between awake and asleep depending on how much they needed me to interact with other people, which is probably why I had my worst episodes in the cell right when I was either falling asleep or waking up.”

“You don’t feel anything when you pull a trigger.” Not a question, just repeating the earlier statement, and Tony got a slight nod the Solider wondering where he was going with this. “Does that mean you don’t feel guilty for what Hydra had you do?” There it was, out in the open, a question that out of everyone on the team only Tony had the exact right mix of motivation and recklessness needed to ask. 

“It’s complicated.” The Soldier’s response and lack of immediate assurance made Tony tense, but finally turn to look at him again in an attempt to judge truth. “Do I hate what I was ordered to do? Yes. Do I feel guilty? No. Because I did everything in my power to break free and it was never enough. The only thing I could ever save was my daughter and I put her through a living hell to do it and in saving her I had to knowingly kill my other children. There is no guilt that could possibly cover the things I have done, just rage and hate and horror. Even those emotions are after the fact, when the mission is done and they are prepping me for Cryo.”

Tony’s eyes hardened for a second, “You could get out for Steve, why not before?”

“Because I couldn’t get out without him.” The Soldier admitted. “I didn’t get out FOR Steve, I got out WITH him. I was stuck for seventy years inside the hellhole that is Hydra. If it wasn’t for Strucker royally fucking up how to handle being my Mission Commander we would probably still be there.” 

The answer was something Tony more or less expected, and he brought up something they really did need to talk about too. Just the thought of everything they were going to have to deal with over the next few months had him rubbing at his shoulders and neck, energy bursting out of him suddenly in a rush of fluid movement. 

The Soldier let him work through the almost manic phase of motion and agitation, and after a few moments Tony came back to himself, grateful for the chance that he didn’t normally get when his brain decided to overload on him. “Look Barnes, I don’t hate you. I did at one time and I won’t say it was easy, because I had some fucking awful coping skills trying to deal with those issues, but I made my way through the rat’s nest of deciding who to blame for having to bury my parents before I was thirty and it sure as hell isn’t you. Iron Man was born in a cave over in Afghanistan because I refused to build Ten Rings the bomb they wanted instead, and a good man died saving my life during the whole mess. I know what torture is, first hand, but I had three months and you had seventy years. It took me longer than I’d like to admit to put that into perspective, but I have managed it now; so these questions I’m asking? I’m not afraid of you, I don’t hate you, and I actually respect you more than you probably think I do. I’m just figuring out what the fuck I’m dealing with, because it isn’t like you come with a manual. As I have to frequently remind the other bozos around here, I work with robots, not people.” 

“For someone who doesn’t work with people, you have an interesting collection of strays on your team.” The Soldier noted quietly, mind detailing all of Tony’s comment but not letting him respond just yet. He wanted time to process that a little more before tackling it as a whole, but time really wasn’t on their side. 

Tony visibly startled, “Wait a second, you think all of this is my doing?”

“Isn’t it? You were the first. Then the others fell in place around you. Steve and I are from a different era entirely, I’m not sure we count.” The Soldier wasn’t afraid to grill the team around him for information, particularly his Spiderling and the Hawk, they had no problem telling him the events leading up to now with as little bias as they could manage. 

“You know they call him the First Avenger, right?” Tony pointed out.

The Soldier contemplated the words for a moment, “Maybe chronologically. I certainly don’t want to be the poor bastard that pisses him off, but I still stand by the idea without you and your flashy red and gold statement the Avengers wouldn’t exist. It took both of you to make the Avengers what they are now.”

“You check your source? Cause Barton, not always the best.” Tony quipped, deflecting the seriousness out of a habit born from dodging bureaucrats wanting things from him he didn’t want to give. 

The Soldier gave a grin like a predator, “He’s far better than he makes you think he is, and yes, I checked.”

“I am both curious and terrified of that vetting process,” Tony admitted. 

“Probably for the best we just leave it there,” At least the Soldier was honest. “And we’ve gotten off topic again.” 

“I don’t know, I feel like this is accomplishing something anyway. No one harboring murderous tendencies goes on weird tangential ramblings with the object of said homicidal urges.” Tony mused. 

“I am honestly trying to figure out if you’re joking, and I can’t.” The Soldier admitted. 

Tony huffed, “Can’t believe I’m going to quote Birdbrain number two here, but do you want me to be scared of you or something? Because I’ve told you flat out I’m not, so really I’m trying to figure out where this is going and I’m lost like Alice down the rabbit hole.” 

“I do appreciate the usage of old references, I figure it must hurt the modern pop culture part of your brain.” The Soldier noted first, before, “No I don’t really want you to be scared, but I’m still trying to figure out why in the hell you aren’t at least angry. Cause to be honest, I’d probably still be fucking pissed.” 

“I mentioned the long path of awful coping methods, didn’t I? All that shit got washed out of my system with expensive scotch and morally ambiguous people in compromising positions. I’m not exactly proud of that time period, but it’s what I did so I’m going to own it. That plus talking, to anyone and everyone I thought might help me get a handle on it. Honestly that was probably the healthiest thing I ever did for myself.” Tony explained. 

“Steve let you have space to work through it, didn’t he?” The Soldier realized. 

Tony nodded, “Yes. He was close by and could get to me to keep me safe but didn’t interfere unless I needed him. Sometimes I would take one of the cars out without Happy, but I’m not stupid and I know myself so they all have monitors in them that lets JARVIS warn someone when my blood alcohol level gets too high. I let JARVIS choose who to contact and he always picked Steve, he would come get me on his bike and take me home without asking a single question about it but let me talk if I started it. I think that’s when I knew for sure that he loved me back. He trusted me to handle my own shit in my own way and tell him when I needed him, and he was always there the moment I did.” 

“The bonus of seeing Steve taking care of you while riding a motorcycle not hurting your response,” The tease was too good to pass up, even if it was a bit of a cheap shot.

“Not one bit, that man is fucking gorgeous.” Tony had absolutely no problem owning up to that. 

“He was beautiful even when he was a little punk, but he hated how tiny he was; like really fucking hated it. I think part of his mind always knew there was going to be something more and it made the rest of him rage for not having it, and the best day of his life may just have been when he got all juiced up with that Serum because he could finally feel like he belonged in his skin.” The Soldier confided. 

“I was curious about that a little,” Tony admitted. “For someone who changed so completely, I mean from the ground up pretty much literally from what I’ve dug up in Howard’s notes, he adapted so smoothly. He was able to run, jump, and swim within minutes of the change. By all accounts that just should not be possible.” 

“Here’s the thing about Steve, when he’s caught up in the moment he never thinks about what he can or can’t do, he just acts. When he got in those fights it was never actually intentional, and there was never a thought process of ‘oh gee this guy is three times my size bet I can win’ it was just I’m angry this guy is an asshole and needs to be taught a lesson. He didn’t think about winning or losing, all he thought of was the next punch.” The Soldier tried to explain. 

“You know, that explains a lot.” Tony realized, before having to cover our laugh, “Our best tactician really is a reckless idiot.”

“Yes, but he is ridiculously good at it, even if he is flying by the seat of his pants most of the time. Word of advice, the more it sounds like he knows what he’s doing the less he actually does, the reverse is also true.” The Soldier advised. “And once again we’re off topic. Is it actually possible for the two of us to talk about something other than Steve for two minutes?” 

“I mean there is a kind of rather large something we’ve both been dodging around, but since it does involve him pretty directly at this point, not sure if that counts as talking about him or not.” Tony was not actually sure about that, it posed an interesting question anyway. Separate entities yes, but still very much a package deal for several more months. 

The Soldier tensed, then had to force himself to relax again, “Two options, we talk about that head on right now by ourselves. I’m okay with that if you really want to but I’d prefer if we got Steve here and discussed it between the three of us. We really haven’t yet, and we should.” 

“How about this, I only have a few things I want to ask you directly without him hearing and you already said there was a time limit on this conversation that honestly I’m a little surprised we haven’t reached yet. Can we talk between ourselves for the little time we have left before he finds us on his own? Then the three of us can have a good long talk.” Tony proposed. 

“Pretty sure Spiderling is helping like I thought she might, almost has to be at this point. And like I said I’m okay talking between the two of us, I just thought it would be better for the three of us to clear the air. I understand there are things you don’t want him to hear though, so go ahead.” The Soldier urged. 

“Mostly I just have one big question that has the potential to spawn others.” He got a go on gesture from the Soldier. “All this talk about guilt and hate and everything, I need you to clear the air for me; how do you actually feel about Steve and the baby? Because he thinks you’re drowning, and I don’t know if you are doing that deliberately to save him from something worse or not; but I want the truth.” 

“Same answer as earlier it’s complicated.” The Soldier admitted. “Just so you know I will never lie to him. First because he is Steve and I have some integrity left, and second because he’s probably one of the few people who could catch me if I tried and I can count them on one hand with fingers left over. I do feel guilty for what I did to him, but it’s not for the reasons I should. It’s closer to shame than guilt, and humiliation that we were forced into that position, that I could do nothing to change what happened yet again. And there’s something that’s even harder to explain, I can try but you’ll have to be patient with me, the words will be hard to find. Everything I’ve been saying to you so far were things I was able to anticipate and practice for the most part, the next bit won’t be.” 

“Take your time, words can be hard for the rest of us sometimes too; there’s a lot of trauma all around. I think you’ll like Bruce when you meet him.” The amount and variety of PTSD in the Avengers was kind of amazing, though not actually surprising when one sat down and thought about it.

“You can stop me if I say something that disturbs you too much, this might hit home pretty hard. I’m sorry.” That was the easy part to get out of the way before the Soldier dived in. “My orders from Strucker, it’s not the first time I’ve had to do something like that. I know there’s been more children. The times they’ve bred me like an animal, that’s the closet I’ve come in decades to feeling guilt. There is something you should know about me by now. I am trained to kill outright; the longest it usually takes me to finish a mission is a few minutes and that’s if I have to cover up the fact it was a hit.” Both Tony and the Soldier were shuddering at the bad memories buffeting them, the Soldier fighting for every stumbled word, doing as the genius said earlier and trusting that Tony would stop him if he needed it. 

The Soldier continued with a shaking breath, “What they had me do to Steve, and others like him, it’s the closest to torture I am ever ordered to inflict on anyone; and it’s fucking personal. I know that pain, it was done to me to get my Spiderling. Yes, there is guilt, not for the action itself, but because I couldn’t save my victims from it. I can pretty it up, deny it, show how I was a victim too, but I still inflicted that on them and I know there is absolutely nothing that will make that better. When I kill it is over quickly and is honestly harder for those who are not my victims. The kind of torture Hydra ordered me to do leaves behind a living victim to suffer because of my actions.” 

“Holy shit, no wonder he thinks you’re drowning, he’s right but you never corrected him about why.” Tony realized.

The Soldier nodded, “I hated that he was already going through so much and still trying to take care of me even when he thought it was just straightforward guilt, plus I was still finding my words in the cell. Changing Mission Commanders has helped with that more than any of you will ever know. Strucker really did feel like motherfucking bees stuck in my skull, though in the beginning it was more like angry hornets. Once we knew Steve was pregnant for sure I could think clearer more consistently, because my orders didn’t address anything past that point, but it became a kind of aimless buzz that never stopped until I put a couple bullets in him.” 

“There was a lot more to the decision behind giving Steve command over you than it looked like, wasn’t there?” Tony noticed, he’d thought there had to be, but wasn’t sure it was his place to say anything. Well, now he had the opportunity. 

“So much more.” The Soldier had no shame in confessing. “The only thing I don’t like about it is that we have to use the same system that Hydra used. I wish we had our own. I’m not who I used to be, I never will be. Being like this, it doesn’t make me not a person, it makes me feel safe as a person. The only time I am commanded to hurt people is in the name of protection, and he proved not even an hour ago that he is ready and able to make me stand down even when I attempt to follow that command at the wrong time. He knows me, I know him, we trust each other to keep our dark sides in check, especially since not everyone recognizes where the line is. I mean mine is obvious, him not so much.” 

“Only to those that buy into propaganda, don’t worry, this team knows our Steve has a side to him dark as coal.” Tony assured. “I meant it earlier that part of the reason you are so safe from harassment here is we don’t particularly want to test STEVE’S reaction to it, so it’s less about you really.”

“That shouldn’t be as reassuring as it is, and yet, it is.” The Soldier was a tad mystified. 

“Welcome to the club.” Tony quipped. “So, are you going to answer the rest of my question? I feel like I know you better now, and so I can probably guess, but I’d still like to hear it.” 

“Steve and that little boy are the best things to happen to me in a very long time,” The Soldier responded quietly. “I’ve loved Steve since I was fourteen and my little sister caught us kissing in my room, she raised such a racket, saying how she was getting a new brother. We lasted through sickness and the depression, when we had nothing but each other. Then the war broke out. I enlisted three days before my draft card came, because you got the branch you wanted that way. I wanted my boots on the ground and a rifle in my hands, in the place where people like me needed help. Steve and I had our worst fights over the war and how he couldn’t get in, he tried so many times, and after every failure he was left seething and hurt. There was nothing I could do, especially when I was off at training camp, he tried at least two or three times while I was gone. It didn’t matter how small or sickly he was, he kept trying, and the night before I shipped out we actually went out on a date but got in such a bad fight he stormed off on me, I thought he would walk it off -maybe get in a tussle before it was over- and he’d come back and we’d be okay, but it turns out he just tried again and that’s when he met Erskine. All I wanted was him safe, so I had something beautiful to remember and come home to.” 

“Yeah well, good thing I didn’t listen because I saved your ass in Italy.” Steve’s voice was playful, his grin lopsided, but his eyes were taking in the scene with concern; checking in with both Tony and the Soldier, trying to decide who to give his attention to first. 

“That was one time!” The Soldier shot back, “An important time granted, but how many times did I haul your ass out of the fire exactly?” 

“I may or may not have lost count,” Steve admitted sheepishly. “Or stopped counting, but what’s the difference really.”

Tony couldn’t stop himself from interjecting, “Hard to blame him for going for some upgrades. I mean when the base material is so stunning it is no wonder the masterpiece is sheer perfection.” 

“We’re going to see perfection alright,” The Soldier’s words were soft but his eyes were sharp as they slowly looked up and down Steve’s body, a little quirked lip smile showing when he noticed the goosebumps his perusal seemed to be causing. “Can you imagine what his little boy is going to look like?”

“Only every time I look at him,” Tony admitted coming to stand by the Soldier, with a smirk on his lips and dancing eyes, Steve visibly gulped but his eyes darkened a few shades in interest. “Probably going to have dark hair, basic genetics there.”

The Soldier cocked his head to the side, as if contemplating it, eyes still locked on Steve. “Yeah, most likely. Though maybe a little lighter when he’s young.” 

Tony glanced out of the corner of his eye at the Soldier beside him, then looked forward at the intrigued Steve, holding out an arm for the original super soldier, beckoning him closer. Steve was there in an instant, sliding into the offered hold with ease, a little startled when the Soldier slid an arm around his shoulders from the other side. He hadn’t realized the two of them had gotten close enough with each other to share without speaking first. 

The Soldier’s hand was resting on Tony’s arm after wrapping around Steve, just sitting there, not holding or putting more pressure than necessary. Just a touch to get used to his presence, and it wasn’t particularly unpleasant so Tony put his free hand up to lay it over the Soldier’s in return. 

“He’s probably going to have blue eyes.” Tony spoke quickly before his nerve died out.

Well that got both their attention, but it was Steve who responded, “Tony you know we don’t have any idea right?”

“Yeah, but,” Here he took a breath, glancing at the Soldier again. “My mother had blue eyes. She was a blond too but, just judging by the amount of time she spent at the hairdresser, not going to guarantee that was natural. Anyway, I just wanted you to know, that if he ends up with your eyes Steve it doesn’t actually give anything away.” 

“We need to stop dancing around all this,” The Soldier interrupted in a quiet but firm tone. “We could talk about him like this for the rest of the day, this little boy is Steve’s he is going to be perfect no matter what, but we have to talk about what having him here is going to mean.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Tony affirmed immediately, squeezing the arm around Steve and the Soldier’s hand with the statement. “Steve, you and your son will always have a place with me. I love you and I already love him. If you want him to inherent anything from the Stark name I have no problem with it, even if I have to adopt him to do it. He will be mine either way, as long as that is what you two are okay with.” 

“You’d do that?” Steve asked in amazement, it hadn’t even occurred to him as a possibility. 

Tony nodded, “I told you Steve, I love you, everything about you. I will never make you choose between me or your baby. I do not care if he is mine, I love this baby because he’s yours. I’ll help you take care of him, everything I can give him I will, even if it’s just a piece of paper with a legal status. You two protected him in that cell, this is my way of protecting him out here.” 

“You’re doing this to protect him?” The Soldier was conflicted, not sure how to take the offer. 

“Yes.” Tony said firmly. “Look the only reason the two of you haven’t been swamped by paparazzi already is they don’t actually know you’re back yet. When we start negotiating with the State Department beyond just Rhodey, that is going to change. We are writing a press release that is basically carefully worded bullshit that says you were safely returned but have to spend time in recovery, no disturbances. All that. We are going to do our best not to mention the baby in the interviews this will spark, because honestly, none of us want the media to know about him or the big question mark hanging over him. Of course, no matter how good we are at giving the runaround there is going to be a rather big giveaway soon.”

“Steve can’t go in the field, and even if you didn’t get called to action, hiding a pregnancy on someone with his build is actually fairly easy. Hiding a child is not.” The Soldier realized. 

“You have a plan, or you would be a lot more nervous,” Steve realized, noticing Tony wasn’t showing his usual tells for nerves. 

“My suggestion is about more than inheritance, it really is protecting him.” Tony admitted. “It will always be your choice, please don’t think I’m making you do this, but if he was always a Stark from the beginning then the media would only have another celebrity family story to run, not a kidnapping torture scandal of two national icons we all grew up with in comics and history books. My legal team can keep an adoption creepily quiet, trust me, or the Twins would not be in any way legal for Rhodey to be pandering to the State Department.” Tony explained. “We could spin it that Barnes was able to bust you out of Hydra containment when he was ordered to be your next guard, that you were already pregnant when you were taken captive and that’s what all the secrecy is about. We are worried for your health and safety. Which is not far off from the truth actually.”

“If we do that though, what about Buck?” Steve’s voice caught in his throat as he asked, and he grabbed the Soldier’s arm tightly. 

“He’ll be right here, beside us, raising our boy together.” Tony stated firmly, eyes locking with the Soldier, getting a single affirming nod before the Soldier went back to the task of calming Steve. “I am not going to erase him from our boy’s life, fuck that shit, what we do at home is our business. Especially if this little one is his son. He has waited seventy years to come home to something beautiful, I think it’s time he got the chance, don’t you?” 

“What do you think Buck, want to come home?” Steve asked, leaning into him. 

“I think it’s about time.” The Soldier admitted, turning and kissing his cheek. Then he took in Tony, watching them with visible interest, and he squeezed metal digits resting on Tony’s tanned arm, the genius returning the gesture with a tightening of his own hand.

It was small, but it was just a beginning. Like their son, curled up under Steve’s heart, small and just starting out but growing stronger every day.


	11. I Will Show You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> T'Chaka responds to Tony and the baby gets his first checkup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took so long to get this chapter out because I completely scrapped the first version I had written and started over 3,000 words into it, then produced an extra 2,000 words or so on this one. I apologize, this order just felt better and more natural. Chapter twelve shouldn’t take nearly as long to come out, since it is already half written from the previous version of this chapter.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Eleven  
I Will Show You

The urgency of Tony’s message must have rung true, because it wasn’t twenty-four hours after sending it that King T’Chaka sent his response. 

Tony’s voice was actually in awe as he relayed it to the team, “So here’s the thing, T’Chaka is sending an emissary to us to discuss the issue. Should be here in two days.” 

“Tony, I know you were hoping he would go for the idea or you wouldn’t have suggested we contact him, so why are you so worked up?” Steve asked in concern. 

“Because I didn’t think he’d take this step this soon, not until he had a few more questions answered at least. I think maybe T’Chaka has heard something about this from a different source, because I was honest but not overly detailed when I sent that message.” Tony explained. 

“Wait, so does that make T’Chaka sending someone to deal with us a good or a bad thing? If he thinks the State Department has a point, this could actually be making things worse.” Clint was never afraid to say the uncomfortable things that others shied away from, gave him a reputation as a human disaster but it hadn’t killed him yet so there had to be some method to his madness. 

“Going to mark this as a good thing.” Tony assured. “He wouldn’t bother interacting otherwise, he’d just pull back and ignore my message. The fact that he made time to do this so quickly is another good sign he is serious about hearing us out. There is also the little tidbit about who exactly he is sending to meet us.”

“Tony, stop building up the moment and just fucking tell us.” Rhodey took the wind out Tony’s sails before he could work himself into full peacock mode, it was a bad habit the genius fell into when he got excited. 

“Fine, fine,” Tony brushed off. “T’Chaka is sending his son, Prince T’Challa. There is no way he’d be sending the crown prince out of Wakanda to deal with us if he suspected we were a terrorist cell. I’ll tell you right now T’Challa can and will defend himself, but he is not the kind of person that wants the scrutiny a few dead Avengers would pull onto him and his country.” 

The Soldier spoke up, “Should I be around for your talks with him? If this guy is a fighter my orders could kick in.” 

“I don’t actually know.” Tony admitted, “Steve, what do you think, or Natasha since you have an idea about how sensitive these triggers are?”

“I’ll support whatever Buck wants to do, if he doesn’t feel comfortable there I don’t think we should make him, but I trust him to know his limit and warn me if he feels himself slipping, so he could try being there if he wanted to.” Steve responded first.

Natasha took longer, “With the way we worded his orders just having an experienced warrior in the room shouldn’t set Soldat off, unless they show aggression towards us. He’ll be vigilant of anyone with fighting skill, but not openly violent. Soldat’s orders were to protect us from all threats within his ability to do so, the moment a person with any kind of combat training or experience gets hostile it is going to activate the trigger. That’s about as straightforward as a threat is ever going to get.”

“So, to sum it up, Barnes can only be there so long as we don’t make Prince T’Challa angry?” Rhodey checked, getting her affirming nod. “A bit like being in the same room as Bruce then.” 

That comment took them all by surprise, before Clint and Pietro laughed together. Clint managing to get out, “You know, that’s something we are going to have to remember to tell him.” 

“More importantly,” Sam interrupted, “I think Barnes needs to be there. If he is listening and knows what’s happening he will be a lot calmer than if he is separated out from the rest of us and doesn’t have a clue. His primary objective is to protect us, so not being able to know if we need him is going to drive him crazy; especially if this guy is as good as Tony is implying. The exact same reason that you’re worried about keeping him away is the reason he should be there.” 

“You seem to know T’Challa Tony, so how likely are we to have a Hulk type situation? He likely to get angry easily?” Clint had pulled himself together pretty quickly, but the team was used to his rapid swings by now and just let him go without comment usually. 

Tony heaved a sigh, “It isn’t like we’re pen-pals. I know them enough to say both him and T’Chaka are really solid reasonable rulers who can hold their own in a fight. He won’t jump into a fray without warning, but he isn’t going to lay down and take a beating either. I simply don’t know enough to tell you how calm he is on a regular basis.” 

“Sounds like it’s up to Barnes then, what are your instincts telling you on this?” Rhodey asked directly. 

“That Wilson’s right, and Steve has a point. As long as he is ready at all times with the stop command it would be better if I was at least in the room, I don’t have to directly participate if it makes anyone too antsy.” The Soldier analyzed. 

“We are going to have to warn Prince T’Challa about the triggers and what it means if we have to restrain Soldat too.” Natasha added. “If he understands that Soldat is under a compulsion of protection we might get out without an international incident.” 

“It isn’t like we weren’t going to have to tell him at some point if he is going to be interacting with us for any length of time,” The Soldier allowed. “I don’t want just anyone knowing for a number of reasons, but this man is trying to help us and it’s important.” 

“I’ll make sure he knows what he needs to.” Tony promised. “For now though the important thing for us to remember is this, if we are going to get any help from Wakanda we are going to have to be completely honest with him. No dodging questions, giving half-truths, or otherwise obscuring information; if he asks you something I want you to answer it as honestly as you can and as completely as possible, because the bottom line is they will only help if they believe we truly need it and there is no other way. The quickest way to getting them to say no is lying about our actions.” 

“Why do I feel like that’s directed at the spies in the room?” Clint mused.

“Cause you guys are trained liars?” Sam ribbed. 

“Oh, like you soldier boys don’t have your secrets.” Clint shot right back. 

“Kids, kids, no fighting or I’ll put you in separate corners.” Tony admonished. “Plus, we all know engineers are better, right Rhodey?” 

“Can it Stark, just because you’re the only one doesn’t make you better!” Clint groused. 

“Well, actually, he’s not.” Rhodey interrupted. “Or did you guys forget where Tony and I met?” 

“Soldier boy engineer everybody!” Tony cheered, crowing in joy for his friend, “You really think I would give a suit to just anyone? Nah, Rhodey here’s got a degree rolling around gathering dust somewhere, he just likes his rank better than having everyone call him doctor.” 

“What kind of engineering?” Sam asked with interest while Clint and Tony started a minor war in the living room, just like any other Thursday really. 

Rhodey snorted a laugh, “This shouldn’t be a surprise considering that I went straight into the Air Force as soon as I could, but it’s Aeronautics. I like building airplanes, and I can read and follow missile blueprints when I have to. Started at MIT where I met Tony and kept going after I enlisted, so yeah, I’ve got a PhD. Took me a hell of a lot longer than it did him though.” 

“Still took him about half the time it usually does.” Tony wasn’t letting him get away with downplaying anything. “My Rhodey is smarter than the average bear. We met because we were the only two people under eighteen stuck in that particular dorm building. I was not the only one who’d skipped a couple grades.”

“Yeah but I was a respectable sixteen, you were what fourteen? Your voice still squeaked if you turned too fast.” If Tony was going to insist on embarrassing him, Rhodey was going to dish it back. 

“Oh, this is gold!” Clint exclaimed with glee, “Right so by now we’ve heard about dandelion fluff Cap, and here comes squeaky Tony, who’s next?” 

“You have no idea how lucky you are that you didn’t have to learn how to shave with a straight razor,” The Soldier admitted quietly, “Left a great smooth line once you knew what you were doing, but before? Not a fun time.” 

“You had me do it for you more often than not,” Steve added. “Said my hands were steadier.”

“Well they were at the time,” He defended himself, a touch indignant. “You were the artist, I was on the docks all day. It always did feel better when someone else did it, you have to admit.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have that problem until the Serum, now did I?” Steve reminded with a red blush. 

The others weren’t sure how to react, until the Soldier burst out laughing. Then Tony decided to get in on the easy teasing, “Wait, did tiny Steve have a little problem in the beard department?” 

“You could say that,” Steve dodged with a shifty expression.

“He tried, and he failed. What little fuzz he did have was blond as wheat so it wasn’t like you could see it.” The Soldier informed, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple to soothe the tease away. 

“Least I was spared looking like a tom cat got after my face,” Steve grumbled. 

“Was it really that bad?” Mild curiosity from Sam, who’d been doing his best over the past few days to make steps towards including and understanding the Soldier, so he was enjoying the humor being shown so openly. 

The Soldier grimaced, “He’s not entirely wrong, I could have gotten better faster, but it was nice having him help me so I didn’t. It worked out.” 

“Because two young boys figuring out how to use a sharp object next to your face couldn’t possibly go wrong.” Sam responded with a laugh. 

“There was a learning curve, but it involved warm water, shaving cream, and a blushing Steve, so really not much of a loss.” The Soldier was in a good mood today, probably because of his talk with Tony and later Steve, he was feeling almost playful with the rest of the team. 

“You have my attention about where the rest of that story could lead, but because of the location I feel a field trip is in order.” Tony’s quip was about half serious, making Steve raise an eyebrow and the Soldier consider him with a smirk. “Hey birdboys, follow along with us, both of you. The rest of you, carry on to whatever amusements pass as entertainment for you.”

“What are you up to Tony?” Steve questioned suspiciously, but rose from the couch to follow him, the Soldier obeying a moment later. 

Sam and Clint took a bit longer to comply, not sure at all about what Tony was up to considering he’d lead into this with a pretty overt innuendo. They shared a look between them, but a shrug from the Hawk had both him and the Falcon raising to follow too intrigued by the mystery to bother resisting. 

Tony escorted them all to the elevator while handing Steve a bottle of water, “Alright J, bring us down to lab, and Steve, drink up.” The order just made the Super Soldier more confused, but he took the bottle and drank as told. 

“Right away sir,” The smooth mechanical voice that was just next to human responded politely, and at one point in time that might had scared the ever-loving hell out of the Soldier, but after everything he had witnessed Tony’s AI was now more an object of fascination than fear. The Soldier had always been interested in technology, even in the forties, and that was probably a good part of the reason he had taken to hacking so well. 

“Alright, so Steve, to answer your question. I’ve finally gotten everything set up to give the baby his first checkup, I was trying to get it together as soon as possible and it was sheer luck I managed it before anything happened with Wakanda. I think we’d all feel a lot better about everything if we knew he was safe and as healthy as he can be.” Tony explained on the ride down to his lab.

The Avengers might live on the top floors of the tower, and Tony had a development lab there where he worked on blueprints and mockups that had no danger of exploding, but any manufacturing of working components happened in his main lab, the one the Soldier had found him in the day before that was almost more garage than scientific laboratory. It was in the basement of the tower, below ground level, to both increase security for his finished designs and contain any blasts that could potentially happen.

The only ways in were through the elevator and a single stairwell, both access points entirely controlled by JARVIS with backup biometric locks for the slimmest chance in hell something took JARVIS offline. His development lab and this one were connected by JARVIS and the manufactured suits and tools could be sent back and forth at a moment’s notice, using a closed path that no person could get into, that system saved his life when Loki threw him out the window during the invasion and he was waiting on his new suit.

“Oh, so this isn’t a sex thing then.” Clint spoke so matter of factly it made the entire elevator full of people stare at him for a full minute. “What!” He squawked. “Tony was the one throwing around innuendos, can’t blame me for taking him at his word.” 

“Are you disappointed?” Clint gulped, because the Winter Soldier just asked him that, and he sounded honestly curious. 

“How am I supposed to answer that?!” Clint worried, looking around for help, and found the other three looking at him in amusement, leaving him on his own to deal with a now smirking Soldier. 

“Save it, we’ve got more important things to deal with than trying barbequed birdy.” Tony interrupted, winding his way through the organized chaos that was his space. “I have everything set up for him here, figured it would be easiest having it all in one place for now. This is the most secure room in the tower, no matter how advanced your technology there is no way of seeing in, getting to us, or tracking the information I store because everything is run by JARVIS. He will be safe here Steve.”

“I was able to get to you Stark, I startled you yesterday.” The Soldier was not going to let him get away with it if it meant there was a weak spot in protecting their boy.

“As much as it would probably please your ego if I told you it was your sheer skill, it wasn’t. JARVIS has a list of people that are allowed down here, you happen to be on it, that’s all that was. If I hadn’t just sent the message to T’Chaka a few seconds before you showed up JARVIS would have warned me you were there, but he was a little busy busting his way through Wakandan firewalls to worry about an authorized person entering my lab.” Tony informed. “Now for the star of this show. Steve get over here.” Tony pointed to a cleared off workbench. “I didn’t take a medical bed, because I thought between all of us there are enough hospital type phobias stewing around we shouldn’t tempt fate. It’s your choice if you want to do this sitting up or laying down, at least for the first little while.” 

“Sitting up, long as possible.” Steve decided, sitting where Tony pointed, the Soldier coming up behind him and settling his hands on Steve’s shoulders. 

Tony was taking out vacuum sealed packages and a box of rubber gloves, a bottle of sanitizer for his hands already on the work top he designated for this. “I was going to get the blood draw out of the way first. I have to warn you though that I might not be the best person for this. During the incident with the palladium poisoning I was having to check my own blood regularly but that was more like a glucose test, uh blood sugar,” He clarified when he saw momentary confusion. 

“I’ll do it,” Sam stepped up, “If I can find a vein in the middle of the dessert with bullets flying around us, I think I can handle this.” 

“That’s what I was hoping you would say,” Tony admitted. 

Steve heaved a sigh and held out his arm as Sam cleaned his hands, slipped on gloves, and prepped the equipment. “I’ve been turned into a pincushion I don’t know how many times since the Serum. I’ll just be happy if you don’t take a couple of pints while you’re at it.” 

“That would explain why there was enough samples of your blood that Bruce’s lab could get ahold of some, I mean it was purposed for the military, but still.” Tony commented as a distraction for the slight poke and draw, the memory of a parade of doctors and scientists more annoying than the reality of what was happening for Steve. Sam was good at what he did. 

“There are times I really don’t know if we are talking about scientists or vampires.” Clint observed. 

“Not a whole lot of difference.” Tony agreed, “Which is why I like my robots, they are not carnivorous.” 

“And you were deathly allergic to normal human interaction for awhile by the sound of it,” Sam joked, stepping back from Steve with the neatly filled vials. “Where do you want these?” 

“Input panel over here,” Tony directed to one of several interfaces with JARVIS he could use to give a sample of a compound to the AI for evaluation. “JARVIS will process everything for us and tell us what we need to know within the hour. Was going to do it the old-fashioned way, because I don’t normally use JARVIS to handle biologics, but then it hit me that there is no actual reason he can’t. I just haven’t because that isn’t my field, so this works and is much faster.” 

“Okay, now what?” Steve asked once that step was taken care of.

“Now is the fun part, I get to play with a new toy.” Tony admitted indicating a piece of equipment set up next to the workbench, the only part of which Steve recognized was a monitor that looked like a television screen. 

Clint’s face broke out in a grin, “This is going to be interesting.” 

“Yeah, well you’re going to be helping Birdbrain. Considering what I’m aiming at is only about an inch long.” Tony remarked as he turned the machine on, facing away from Steve and the Soldier for a moment to try and hide his grin, but he wasn’t doing a very good job.

“He’s that small?” Steve asked in awe, hand on his lower belly. 

Tony was too excited not to laugh, “Yeah, he’s just a little thing right now, don’t worry, he’ll grow.” He teased, before instructing, “And for my favorite part, I need you to take your shirt off.”

Steve chuckled but obeyed, rolling his eyes when Sam whistled playfully. 

“Not going to lie, that never gets old.” Clint muttered.

“You know we can all hear you, right?” The Soldier pointed out, and Clint winced, looking up at him cautiously. 

“Am I going to die now?” He asked tentatively.

The Soldier tilted his head in mock confusion, “Part of me wonders how you are still alive as it is, the rest of me knows the answer and is impressed.” Clint gave him a mischievous wink for the response. 

“I know why my Spiderling likes you.” The Soldier observed, just shaking his head. “Now where were we before the Hawk got distracted?” 

Tony picked up a tube of gel, “Sorry Steve, there’s really no way to make this pleasant, gonna be cold and squishy.” 

“If it’s what you have to do,” Steve allowed, excitement only slightly tempered by a wince as the cold gel hit his Serum enhanced skin. He was temperature as well as touch sensitive, made for interesting experiences sometimes as Tony discovered when he realized the increased senses meant Steve was extremely ticklish. 

“If you could lay down or lean back against Barnes for this it would be great.” Tony requested, and Steve didn’t hesitate before reclining back against the Soldier rather than the workbench. The Soldier easily accommodating him and helping to get him positioned right for the genius to work the instrument in his hand over the lower part of Steve’s abdomen, below his navel and between his hips. The machine made an odd echoing sound that he listened to intently, using it as a guide just as much as the picture on the screen. 

Steve watched Tony’s face, entranced by the look of determination, love, and concern driving him as he worked. Even when Tony’s face was blank with concentration his eyes were full of every thought and emotion running through him. One of the things he most loved about him was how much he was overflowing with feeling, even when there was so often he was too hurt to let people close enough to see. 

Then the sound changed, the machine noise switching to something regular and fast, a tattoo of sound that whooshed and pulsed with a consistency that could only mean it was one thing. “Tony, is that?” Steve was too choked up to finish the question, and he could feel the Soldier nuzzle into his neck, holding him closer. 

“Yes Steve, that’s him, it’s his heartbeat.” Tony replied with awe and love. 

“It’s supposed to be that fast, right?” The Soldier asked worriedly, holding Steve close. 

Clint answered, “Yes, it’s supposed to be about twice as fast as ours or more, he sounds like my kids, but the machine Tony’s using can get a real count of the beats and be positive.” He reassured.

“JARVIS, track pulse rate for the next sixty seconds,” Tony ordered.

“Of course Sir, but the data may only be relevant with an accurate or as closely approximated as possible gestational age for reference.” JARVIS responded delicately. 

“That is going to keep coming up,” Tony warned. “We need to know how old he is so we know he’s growing the way he should be.” 

“You do know that little toy you’re playing with can give you the date within a couple days, right?” Clint reminded. He knew he might be stepping on a few toes, but if it was important, he would do it. 

The Soldier tensed and Steve took a deep breath, “So when you asked me on the jet back here, it wasn’t just theoretical, there really is a way to know which of you is his father.” Steve realized. 

“Yes, but we don’t have to look at the results if you aren’t ready to know. I can have JARVIS analyze the information we get from how big he is and use it to tell how healthy he is, without ever telling us the truth. That is a valid option thanks to having an actual AI at our disposal.” Tony offered. 

Steve felt a little torn, but he was laying here in the Soldier’s protective arms and looking into Tony’s loving eyes listening to their son’s heartbeat, and he knew what the real question needed to be. “Knowing who his father is isn’t going to change how much I love him, or how I feel about either of you. So, I guess the question is more important for the two of you. Tony, Buck, is knowing going to change how you feel? Because I’m going to be honest and really fucking selfish, I want you both in my life and his.” 

“Not getting rid of me that easy, I promise.” Tony assured one more time. “I’ll keep saying it as many times as it takes for you to believe me, I know you have good reason to be afraid people are going to disappear on you. Your whole world was gone in what felt like the blink of an eye.” 

The Soldier let Tony finish before adding his own reply. “Steve, I’ve waited too long to come home to run away from you now. I’m still so broken, it’s hard for me to believe you are letting me touch you sometimes, but Steve I’m here and I won’t leave you again. This is not the end of the line.” 

Steve was in tears by then, and no one blamed him, he was listening to his son and surrounded by love. It was understandable and at least they were happy tears. “Can we see our baby now?” He requested hopefully. 

“Here, I think you need a hand.” Sam came to the rescue again. “Tony go be with them, see your kid, be a dad. I’ve got this.” He muscled his way beside Tony and took the ultrasound wand from his trembling hand. “I may not have checked on a baby, but I have used one of these before. Clint you’re up for telling us what we’re seeing.” He took charge and gave orders, the Military background shining through and even Tony obeyed without question, because really? He just wanted to cuddle with Steve right now, the Soldier giving him room to come up by his head placing gentle kisses on his jaw and lacing the fingers of one hand together. 

It took a few moments, but with patience and a bit of direction from a now completely serious Clint, there was an image on the screen steadily growing clearer. 

“And tada, there he is, little boy playing hide and seek with us.” Clint presented, his smile nothing on the beaming faces of the three people tangled together with Steve at the center. “Looks a bit like ET right now, which is probably a reference you don’t get, but anyway at least he’s more than a little blob. His head’s up here, and this line right here is his spine, these little pods are his hands and feet; by the looks of him he probably has fingernails already. You can actually see his heart beating which is pretty cool I think.”

“Any ideas how old he is Doctor Hawk?” Tony couldn’t resist the jab as he asked, it was second nature to bug Clint. 

“Judging by what he looks like and how big he is, between nine and ten weeks.” Clint estimated, looking at the screen intently, Sam holding the image steady. “I can’t call it more accurately, it wasn’t like I was going in for a sonogram every other day when I was pregnant. That’s not how it works.” 

Tony laid his free hand carefully on the Soldier’s tense back, “Sounds like it’s still up in the air. JARVIS? You are getting the measurements you need, right?” 

“Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton have done a commendable job. I am making calculations as we speak Sir,” JARVIS assured. 

“What would I do without you J?” Tony complemented his creation.

And it said something that JARVIS was more than capable of returning the quip, “Probably flounder in distress.” 

“Steve, do you want Clint and I here when you guys find out the truth? That’s something pretty private, we wouldn’t be offended if you wanted to get that answer without us in the way.” Sam offered. 

Steve looked at the two people around him, and it wasn’t a hard call, “You know what? I think we’re going to take you up on that. We are probably going to tell the team eventually, but this is something we should find out between the three of us.” 

“And how about we do that up in our room? Somewhere safe and calm, it should help you relax.” Tony added. “We can get the results of the bloodwork and any anomalies from this scan if there are any up there too; which it doesn’t look like it to you does it Legolas?” A firm shake of his head in denial. “So, I think we might be done here for now.” 

“Two seconds.” Sam halted, pressing a few buttons on the ultrasound unit, the machine enough like the kind he used before he figured out how to freeze the image and print three copies. “Knew you would have the kind that did this Tony, here Steve, your very first baby pictures.” 

Steve took the print in his hand with careful awe, seeing his baby captured and real in a photo, giving him a physical thing he could look at whenever he wanted to. It made him want to cry again, but he just barely held them back, instead he leaned forward and pulled a very startled Sam into a hug with a grateful thank you. 

“Note to self, Captain America is cuddly when he’s pregnant.” Clint observed. 

“He always was, he’s just less worried about showing it.” Tony revealed, the Soldier nodding in agreement. 

Sam, once the shock of the move passed, laughed and hugged back, “I did tell you that you were welcome to come cuddle whenever you wanted to. Now go enjoy getting fussed over.” 

They ended up on the elevator together back upstairs, but Sam and Clint left them at the communal floor and the trio continued up to the Penthouse where Steve and Tony lived. The Soldier had been splitting his time equally between Steve and his Spiderling in the days since coming to the tower, so he wasn’t a stranger to the floor and easily navigated beside them, only hesitating a moment at the doorway to their bedroom before following when they both motioned him inside. 

“Don’t know about you guys, but it’s been a long day, I’m going to get comfortable before dealing with anything else.” Tony declared, rummaging through his drawers.

“Sounds good, come on Buck my things fit you.” Steve offered, mirroring Tony on the other side of the room, the Soldier going along with the flow wordlessly. 

Tony watched them out of the corner of his eyes while he dressed, the care they showed with each other. A mix of kindness and devotion and aching longing, there was a seventy-year gap in who they had been compared to who they were now, but they still loved fiercely. Finding each other again through all the pain and loss had been a miracle.

“God, you’re both beautiful.” He choked out, only realizing he spoke out loud when Steve and the Soldier turned to look at him with curious concern. “I mean it, you’re so beautiful together it hurts to look at you, but I can’t stop.” 

Then Steve was wrapped around him, body held tight to his own, and there was a tentative stroking hand from the Soldier across his upper back, it just made his body shake more. 

He was being lifted, carried, brought over to the bed and set gently on the mattress and for the life of him he didn’t know which of them did it and he honestly didn’t care. Especially when he found himself smashed between them, Steve pulling him into his front, the Soldier curling around his back. Just fully surrounding him with warm and skin and human. 

“Breathe Tony, you’re here, with us. You don’t have to keep looking from the outside in. You deserve so much more than that.” Steve assured gently. “I’m yours, every bit of me. I love you. Tony you’re amazing, gorgeous and charming, and when you get focused it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I could sit all day in your lab just watching you work because the look on your face is so stunning. I’ve drawn it hundreds of times and never gotten it right, because nothing is as good as the original, you’re one of a kind.” 

The Soldier added his voice to the mix, “Steve never doubted you, not for a minute. I was the one worried you wouldn’t be able to handle what happened, I didn’t want to take anything else from you. He believed in the strength of your heart then, and now, so do I. You told us you were not going to push me out of our boy’s life, well here’s me doing the same, I will not be trying to take your place. I was under the impression the word our meant all three of us.”

“It does. Now, and always, for us and especially him.” Steve spoke almost viciously. “He is our son, all three of ours. I need you two, I can’t do this without you. I’m sorry. I can’t.” 

Now it was Steve’s turn to be smothered, the transition smooth and unspoken, but they had him centered in the blink of an eye. “Where do you think we’re going to go?” Tony asked softly, his hand next to the Soldier’s over Steve’s abdomen. “Everything we want is right here.” 

“Do you think your computer friend has those answers yet.” The Soldier asked.

“Two things, thank you for calling him a friend, and he is so much more than a computer you might as well have compared a rifle with a toaster.” Tony was at least willing to appreciate that the Soldier acknowledged that JARVIS was more than circuits to Tony, but the computer comment was more than a little insulting.

“Oh golly, so sorry I just happened to be born in 1917.” The Soldier quipped. 

“Which I’d be much more inclined to let you have if I didn’t know you’d have half a chance at actually being able to hack him, so there’s that.” Tony pointed out. 

“Sir, if I may, I do have Captain Rogers’ results.” JARVIS interrupted at the perfect moment to prevent a potential ego battle. 

“Fire away J,” Tony requested, squeezing his arms in reassurance when he felt Steve tensing up. 

“Bloodwork shows everything at the high end of healthy ranges on all measures taken both nutritionally and hormonally, although Serum levels in the Captain’s blood stream seem to be in active phase suggesting some measure of intervention in the matter. Sonography results indicates heartrate and fetal development all once again at the high end of healthy ranges for projected gestational age. My conclusion being both Captain Rogers and the child are at the pinnacle of health.” JARVIS reported smoothly, tension both leaving the three men listening carefully, and building up as the AI had a flare for the dramatic the same as the man who programmed him. 

“Told you he was going to be strong,” Steve reminded, hand laying over his baby. 

“Yeah you did,” Tony agreed with a happy smile, kissing him quickly. “Now JARVIS, for the big question. How old is the baby?” 

“Estimated age, nine weeks and three days, with a two-day margin of error.” JARVIS revealed. 

There was silence in the room. Overwhelming silence. Then arms tightened around shocked bodies, there was kissing, desperate and needy kisses. Cheeks got wet as tears started falling. It was a press of three bodies demanding contact and reassurance and love and reminders that no one was going anywhere.

They broke apart when the pressing need for air forced them to, and Steve started talking. “We used to whisper about this in our little apartment, at night when no one could hear how silly we were being. There was no money, I was too sick, and the only place you could get work was on the docks. It would kill a baby if you tried carrying. We just couldn’t.” 

“Then you followed me to war and the whispers became our little secret, the thing we promised each other when we were tired and sore and ready to give up.” The Soldier took up the thread. 

“But you fell off that train, and I put a plane into the ice. The whispers stopped, I thought they stopped forever.” Steve shivered and two bodies entwined around him, loving him. “Bucky, we’ve been through so much, the people whispering together in the dark aren’t the ones in this room, but I love you and we’re finally having our baby.”

The Soldier rolled until he was splayed over Steve, leaning down to kiss his belly, “Hello Doll, listen up. You will grow up hearing things, bad things, and you might get angry or sad but I want you to know something. You were wanted, and you are so very loved. This family is strange and a little broken sometimes, but it is yours and we will protect you with everything we have. I might be your father, but I am not the only one who loves you Doll.”

That was Tony’s queue, he came in from the other side, his own kiss light and teasing but full of care, “I’m here for you Sweetheart. I love you little one, and your Mama. Anyone tries to give you a hard time they are going to have to get through a wall of Avengers, me, then a very angry Winter Soldier. Not to mention exactly who your mother is. Quite the lucky little baby aren’t you?”

Steve brought his hands up so that he could cup each of their faces, looking into steel blue and warm brown alternatively, “I love you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell you how much. I have an idea I’d like to see happen, building off of Tony’s.”

“What is it?” The Soldier encouraged. 

“Tony, I’m just going off the twins, but an adoption doesn’t have to change someone’s name, right?” He asked, getting a confirming nod. “Then I want the baby to have my name. If you adopted him with the Rogers name I won’t feel like it’s too out of balance trying to give him a piece of both of you. He would be a Rogers by name, Bucky’s by blood and legally yours. We raise him together, as a family, all of us.” 

“Steve,” The Soldier’s voice was quiet, but not upset. “I don’t mind even if his name isn’t Rogers. By all accounts, I don’t exist in this era yet. I will have to at some point just going by all this political bullshit, but Tony had a point the other day in saying it might be better if the world thinks he could only be a Stark. I love him, I want what is best for him. If that means lying to the world I’m going to do it, but that doesn’t mean we have to lie to him or the team. Like Tony said, what we do at home is our own business.” 

“For the record, I think it would be cute if he had a bit of us all, but as I said before I would be proud and honored to give him the Stark name if that’s what you end up deciding.” Tony added on. 

“We have time to talk about it still, but I do want to give him something to tie his different pieces together.” Steve admitted. 

“That’s easy, the thing you’re looking for is love. That’s what will tie his different parts together.” Tony informed gently. “But no one is going to argue too hard about a little boy running around with your name.” 

“Not at all, I just wanted to make myself clear.” The Soldier explained. 

Steve relaxed into their hold and let himself be reassured, as he did a smile slowly grew on his face, "We're going to have a baby."

"Yeah Steve, we are, and he's going to be a handsome little heartbreaker." Tony returned the smile, leaning in for a kiss.

The Soldier waited for Tony to retreat back before he kissed Steve himself, pulling away with a smirk. "Going to be a reckless troublemaking punk more like, but I can't wait to see him." 

“He’s going to be my baby, and I don’t care what he looks like or how he acts, I’m going to love him.” Steve added, earning himself another almost crushing press of enthusiastic affection.


	12. Coming Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once the gut reactions settle, our boys need to have a couple good conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter once again was not intended when I posted the last one, but the story would suffer without it. We got their gut reactions last chapter, now we need their actual thoughts and it took me longer to convey that then I expected so it gets its own chapter. 
> 
> Content Warning: Consensual sexual encounter between Steve/Tony. This one is best described as smutty fluff which doesn’t make a lot of sense until you see it, but I don’t describe much below the waist both just because that’s my style and because I have changed enough of human anatomy it does change how sex works and in order to explain it I would have to get far more detailed than I prefer going when I write sex. I am not sex repulsed, but I am definitely sex indifferent/neutral so makes it difficult sometimes.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Twelve  
Coming Down

  
Natasha didn't know exactly what woke her up. A whisper of air, a change in shadows, none of that would have happened around the person in her room. He was too good to make those mistakes, unless he meant to for sheer intimidation. This was something deeper, a primal instinct inside her that screamed danger that had kept her alive more than once even if she refused to believe in anything less than her own eyes but those too could be fooled.

  
Her room was never completely dark, something that wasn't commented on by those that shared her bed, and now it let her see a glimpse of his face.

  
Blank, utterly blank, which worried her by itself, and only grew when she realized there were tears running down his cheeks silently. "Soldat?" She could have kept the alarm from her voice if she chose to, but she decided to let it stay there. If he was showing emotion, so would she, although it looked like he was hovering on the edge of shutting down.

  
"Spiderling." There was so much packed into a single word there. Sorrow and hope and worry, overlaid with something even darker that she wasn't sure there was a word for in any of the languages she knew.

  
"Come here Soldat," She ordered, tone firm, patting the bed beside her. Having something solid to follow got him moving, and he obeyed smoothly, laying down in the exact place she indicated without letting a single bit of his body actually touch her.

  
He was on his stomach, a gesture to make him feel less vulnerable and appear less dangerous. Though they both knew if the other wished it death could come in a heartbeat.  
"You don't have to speak if the words are stuck, but it could help if you tell me," She offered while reaching out to touch him, maybe his arm, or thread her fingers through his hair, but reconsidered when he flinched away from her hand. He was going to have to be the one to cross the space between them, she wouldn't overload him by forcing the issue.

  
He neither moved or responded for a long time. She was right in assuming his words were locked tight in his throat. The more he needed to talk the less he was able to do it, not without a great deal of mental preparation like when he had spoken to Tony. He could respond to questions when prompted, even be playful in the right mood, but that was a far cry from being able to speak on demand as much as he pleased.

  
He had been navigating the team dynamics by being prepared and waiting for prompting, occasionally sharing more than they were expecting, but never really opening up conversation on his own with the one glaring exception. Right now though, Natasha knew something had taken him by surprise and shaken him to his core, stealing away his words and making him retreat to her side.

  
When words did come they were almost too quiet to hear, and they came out in Russian, the first language she ever remembered hearing him speak. The switchover was not something she was entirely sure he realized he'd done. "I saw him today."

  
She responded in the same language, slipping into the familiar syllables with ease, "I suspected that's where you were going earlier. I didn't ask Clint anything, thought one of you would tell us when you were ready." She didn't need him to explain who he was talking about, there was only one thing that could be getting him that worked up that wasn't a threat.

  
"Spiderling, he's mine." There was awe, and terror, piled together in a way that no one else in the tower would be able to understand but she just might.

  
"You're afraid of wanting this." She observed simply, as if it were a matter of fact, and for them it was.

  
A tremor ran up his spine, "I do want him. He is a good thing that came from a dark place. Like you were. I have never had good luck with good things though. I hurt you Spiderling, I made you cold and put blood on your hands before you were tall enough to reach my hip. What's going to happen when Steve wakes up from this dream and realizes the baby he wanted was forced into him?"

  
"You aren't giving him the credit he deserves Soldat." Natasha chastised firmly. Knowing he took solace in directness, it soothed something inside her Soldat, the part of him that molded and adapted to his surroundings and kept him alive. It meant he had an idea what the people around him expected of him so he might avoid the pain of punishment. Clint had picked up on it right away, because he was the same way. "Steve knows exactly what having this baby means, he knew it from the start. His mind is no less brilliant than it ever was, even if my brother is making it harder for him to control his emotions. There was only a slim chance in the beginning the baby wasn't yours, a chance worth protecting by all means, but I was expecting a sibling out of this to be honest. I understand why you're worried, I really do and I'm here for you whatever you need, but Steve chose to love his baby unconditionally so don't you go taking that away from him. You made the same choice to love me."

  
"I want to believe you." It sounded so good, but far too simple to be true.

  
Her smile was soft and sad, "Soldat, the Steve I know would never have gone into the field that day if he really thought he could be pregnant. He would have at the very least warned the rest of us, and there’s no way we would have let him risk it. They weren't trying to have a baby, just hadn't been careful like they normally would be because of strange circumstances. Tony told us that, and he didn't even remember it was a possibility until we discovered the reason they took Steve and it made him think about it. I bet it was the same for Steve."

  
She could feel him tense up beside her, "Should you be telling me this? It's private."

  
"I told you I am here for whatever you need, and I think you need to hear this." She insisted. "It is personal, but it isn't a secret. Soldat, Steve knew the moment he submitted to Hydra the baby was probably going to be yours. And to be blunt, so did Tony. They knew, and the two of them chose to love the baby anyway."

  
"There was so much hope in his eyes." The Soldier muttered before smashing his face against the mattress.

  
"Which one, Steve?" She got a shake of his head, "Tony then." This time she got a nod of agreement. "Of course he had hope, that man is so gone on Steve it's kind of funny when there isn't a crisis going on, which is rare granted with our lives, but still. Just because he didn't give up on the idea without checking doesn't mean he hadn't prepared himself for the alternative."

  
He turned just enough to free up his voice, "After we found out Tony kissed over the baby, told him he loved him and promised to be there for him."

  
"Take him at his word." Natasha encouraged. "Tony has been hurt, deeply, by figures who were both blood related and not that were supposed to take care of him. If he made a promise to a child, especially Steve's child, he is going to keep it."

  
"It's not him I doubt, or Steve even if I do think he is taking this far too well and it worries me. I want my son. I love him. I just, I'm barely a person anymore. I'm getting my feet under me and finding my words, but what is he going to see when he looks at me? When he finds out about my leash and who holds it?" It hurt to think about.

  
"He is going to see what I see," Natasha answered slowly, evenly, not dismissing his worry. "Someone hurt, but learning to pick themselves up again. He will see someone strong that needs help sometimes from someone just as strong. He will have help understanding what he is seeing, I won't leave him to figure it out alone. You have family Soldat, and something tells me I am not the only one to tell you that or you wouldn't have run to me with your words all locked up."

  
Despite it all, he smiled, "Those two, they want us to raise him together. We have a plan to keep him safe."

  
"Tell me?" She prompted, and he finally closed the space between them, just letting his arm brush against hers as he spoke. He found himself spilling everything, from his talk with Tony, the check-up where they got to see the baby and hear his heartbeat, and finally the plan that would give the baby a little piece of them all while protecting him from scrutiny.

  
The silence after was comfortable and calm, giving him time to come down from all the words and her a chance to slot everything into place she hadn't already managed to guess. "Soldat, I know you are afraid, but I'm going to tell you something now. It will take time for you to believe me, and that is okay, but the sooner you start trying the better. You are free Soldat, this isn't the Red Room. Here and now you are allowed to have your son, in whatever way is best for his safety and yours. I promise you Soldat that this family you have found, no matter how different it all feels to you, is going to let you love him."

  
“I never want him to feel the pain you did. You were the greatest thing that happened to me for seventy years, and also my worst crime. Everything I did to you, all those horrible things, are even worse when you realize that if I had to do it all over again, I would. I don’t regret it, even if you hated me and spat in my face the moment you saw me again, at least you are alive and free to do it.” He confessed quietly. As far as he saw it, her crimes under orders were his to bear too. He crafted the deadliest weapon he could manage and handed her over to the people that abused him.

“Soldat, I know.” She admitted. “All of that, I know. I will never let that pain touch my brother. Not when he is a fresh start for all of us. Trust me even if you can’t trust yourself yet.”

“Thank you Spiderling.” He went silent again, and she let him. The dim quiet of her room a comfort to them both as they settled against each other, lost in thought.

That conversation helped him get his head on straight again, feel like he was on the right path with Steve and Tony. Telling Natasha was simple once he finally got the words to come, because it wasn’t hard to see how much he needed it. He could talk to her in ways that just weren’t possible around the others yet.

He wasn’t the only one who needed to have a good talk to clear his head either.

The Soldier’s anxiety had built up over time, laying with Steve and Tony in their room feeling included and wanted but an intruder at the same time. He was still learning his boundaries and with the emotional upheaval it had slowly driven him into the mental shutdown that brought him to his Spiderling.

The other two had watched him leave with concern but didn’t stop him, having a fair guess where he was going, and they knew it was important for him to feel like he had control over himself if he was going to progress in his recovery.

That left Steve and Tony alone with the news for the first time. Tony was quick to roll over into a kiss of reassurance before any negative thoughts could intrude too deeply. “I love you Steve, nothing has changed.”

Steve leaned into the press of lips before responding, “I love you too, and you are being so amazing about all of this, but we both know that’s not true.”

“Do I really have to tell you again that I’m not going anywhere?” Fond exasperation, and a playful nip to Steve’s neck had the ticklish Super Soldier smiling, but it was a small sad thing.

“That isn’t why things will change.” Steve warned, curling closer to Tony’s smaller body, giving him better access to his neck and jaw. He wanted to show he wasn’t running away from him with what he was saying, but he was afraid.

Tony heard the note of fear and kissed the pulse point in the hollow of his throat before encouraging, “Try and explain it to me? Tell me what’s worrying you.”

“My baby isn’t yours.” Steve started, holding up a hand to silence Tony’s automatic protests. “I believe you when you say you’re going to love him anyway, but Tony this goes beyond not being planned, he wasn’t a happy accident. He was an order, and someday he is going to find out about that. I want him Tony, but is he going to believe that when he learns that Hydra forced me to have him? I know Buck is worried about it too.”

“He will believe you, because we are going to love your little boy more than Hydra hates.” Tony stated firmly. “I’m not saying it will be easy. He’s ours, of course there are going to be rough patches while he’s growing up. The first thing Barnes ever told him was that there would be times he is going to be sad or angry over all this, but the important thing for him to know was that he is loved and wanted. That’s what we need to hold onto, not hate, not bad memories, just love and want. If we can manage that he will be much better off when he gets old enough to start asking the hard questions.”

Steve had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down, overwhelmed from the emotions flooding him; most of them good, but it was just so much at once. “You’re going to be a great father Tony. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, I know you were hoping he was yours.”

Tony nipped his neck again, a little sharper, in a kind of teasing warning. “Don’t you dare apologize to me for protecting yourself. I am happy to welcome your baby, because him existing means you are alive and here with me. I hoped he was mine yes, I already told you that, but there’s no reason for me to hate that he isn’t. I can’t blame Barnes either, he hurt himself more than you by the sounds of it, and he gave you this baby under terrible circumstances, but at least if it’s him I know you love your son’s father. I hate Hydra for putting you in that position of not having a choice, but I will never -ever- blame either of you for doing what you had to. It brought you back to me, you just happen to have an extra heartbeat.” Tony settled his hand over the baby as he finished for emphasis, rubbing gently.

“How? Just how are you being so perfect about this?” Steve couldn’t get any more contact with Tony if he tried, already wrapped around him tightly and holding on for dear life.

He felt Tony’s chest rumble with a scoff, the press of the arc-reactor against his own chest a familiar chill that meant he was home. “Hardly perfect,” Tony refuted. “Just remembering what it’s like to not be worth someone’s time. I won’t let your son feel that way. I had several weeks of nothing to do but look for you and think about what I would do when I got my hands on you again, I knew there would be a stowaway involved.”

“Like I said, you are going to be a great father.” Steve reiterated, kissing him deeply for several long moments, pulling away only to rest their foreheads together. “He is Bucky’s son, but everything we said earlier was more than empty words. I want a family together and Buck does too, I could see it in his eyes he was serious about it. I’m afraid for him, but I want to see what our baby is going to be like.”

“If he is anything like his fathers, he is going to love you like crazy,” Tony teased, attacking his neck and jaw again making Steve break out in surprised laughter until the touches turned less teasing and more serious. The chuckles turned to tremors and his sounds died down.

Mirth was loud and raucous, he didn’t typically care who heard him when he was laughing, but pleasure was conditioned quiet. Steve and Bucky spent years trying to be courteous behind thin walls in cheap apartments or no walls at all in the middle of warzones, canvas didn’t cover much and if they had been desperate a sturdy tree not quite far enough to keep the other Howlers from grinning at them.

Tank and t-shirt were quickly lost off the side of the bed, the two touch addicts craving skin contact. Tony planted himself firmly across Steve’s lap, but paused with his lips against his collarbone, “It hasn’t been long since you got back, if you aren’t ready for this, say so, it ends as soon as you do.” He wouldn’t normally have to remind Steve he could stop this at any time, but knowing what he had just been through Tony was not going to be satisfied with implied consent for a while.

Considering that Steve took time to think about it, that wasn’t a bad move, “Feels good, I’ll stop you if it gets too much.” He promised.

His words were met with a kiss, Tony stretching up to meet him, before grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him down. Tony was as dynamic during sex as he was during conversation, always moving, and often speaking to check in and encourage.

Steve let himself fall forward at Tony’s lead, settling his bulk overtop the smaller male, holding himself steady with planted hands and knees around the smirking genius. “I’ve missed this view.” Tony quipped, hands mapping out sculpted muscles. “Think this way might be better for you for now.”

Steve leaned down and trailed kisses up Tony’s torso, starting from his navel and ending at the arc reactor, each soft press making the lean muscle twitch and shudder, “Sure that’s the only reason?” He teased as he finished the journey, lips hitting metal and glass.

“Less talk, more action, Captain.” Tony ordered bucking up against Steve.

He chuckled and kissed the curve of Tony’s neck right below his ear, “Always so impatient.” He brought down a bit more of his weight, pinning Tony’s hips to the bed with his own. “What if I make it so you have to wait?”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment, I am filling a complaint.” Tony moaned, wiggling to try and free himself from the confines of Steve’s trap.

Steve got a Cheshire grin, lifting up a bit, before bringing his hips back down; Tony letting out a strangled hiss. “Now here I thought you told the team you didn’t mind being my teddy bear?” That conversation on the jet was the first time Tony and Bucky had ganged up against him, there was no way Steve was forgetting it.

“You’re fucking beautiful, but you’re killing me, so would you kindly fuck me? Pretty please?” It was not begging, it was demanding. Insistently. If his gorgeous Super Soldier of a lover didn’t oblige soon it might just devolve though.

“As you wish,” Steve responded to the order with mocking seriousness, but did move to unpin Tony just as he burst into peals of laughter.

“You did not just quote the Princess Bride at me right now, did you? Really?” Tony’s arms were around Steve’s shoulders again and he had his face pressed into his neck. Steve’s weight lowered onto him, but evenly distributed this time so he was a comforting mass of warmth and security over him.

“Says the man who could make an entire conversation in movie references and I would never know it,” Steve pointed out, holding him tight.

“An interesting theory for another time, like when I don’t have you half-naked on top of me.” Tony’s humor had quite a bit of strain to it just from the predicament he found himself in. “I am on a mission to get you entirely naked. There is not enough nakedness happening in this room right now for my tastes.” He felt it was only fair he warn Steve what was coming.

“Then by all means go ahead, on one condition.” Steve felt a little bad that his teasing made Tony let out an actual groan of frustration, but he wasn’t going to leave him hanging for long. “You let me return the favor.”

“Oh fuck yes,” And Tony was all over him, reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants and trying to slide them down while maintaining as much bodily contact as possible.

Steve moved obligingly following Tony’s wordless orders, eyes darkening like storm clouds building up as he waited for the right moment, a small tell that Tony missed in his own haze. Perfect. He saw his moment and tackled Tony to the mattress, pinning his arms above his head with one arm, straddling his body, kneeling on the bed on either side of Tony without touching him except that single point of contact at the top. He reached between them for the last article of clothing and checked Tony’s expression, making sure he was still okay with this even if he hadn’t stopped it verbally.

Tony was staring, completely in the moment, and very much interested. “Come on, please?” He demanded again, arching his hips up into Steve’s hand encouragingly. He barely held in his sigh of relief when the soldier obeyed, he never got over the thrill of anticipation crawling up and down his spine at the feel of Steve unwrapping him like a present.

“How do you want me?” Steve’s voice was right next to his ear and Tony’s whole body seized up in pleasured reaction, goosebumps crawling over his skin.

“Don’t care, anyway, just hurry.” He might not have been begging before, well, he was now.

Steve would certainly never deny that tone, not when he was perfectly willing and able to fix the problem. He used his strength advantage to arrange Tony how he knew the engineer enjoyed it, limbs loose and pliant under his touch as Tony made his body go limp like a ragdoll. One of the first things that ever caught Steve’s attention was Tony’s sheer fearlessness. He teased the Hulk and stood toe to toe with him all in the span of a couple of hours, never backing down from a challenge or showing a hint of fear.

That fearlessness never went away, it followed them to their bed, Tony enjoyed it when Steve showed off his strength. He trusted the Super Soldier would never hurt him with it and just sat back and enjoyed.

Steve took one last moment before putting Tony out of his misery, “I love you Tony.” Then finally after weeks of worry, frantic searching, and uncertainly, they were linked together again.

They started out wanting to be slow and sweet, something to reestablish ties, but that didn’t last long in the face of almost manic energy and the need for each other. It was a moment of not realizing how much they needed this until it happened.

They were cooling down in a sated heap quickly, but couldn’t bring themselves to worry about it.

The thing they did worry about was the dinner they missed, that their tired and now exercised bodies were reminding them they should probably track down. Now the thing about the Penthouse was it had a kitchen, but the people who owned that kitchen were a billionaire engineer and a depression era soldier, cooking was not their strong point. So to the communal floor it was to raid for leftovers, once they managed a cursory clean up and short scavenger hunt for tossed clothes of course.

They ran into Natasha and the Soldier in the kitchen, probably doing a similar thing to them since the Soldier was under orders to eat a certain number of times in a day and so far he had only managed twice.

The Soldier looked up as they came in and did a double take, checking them both over closer, before nodding minutely to himself and turning his attention mostly back to Natasha though he wasn’t quite able to get the smirk off his face.

A few minutes of shuffling around in the fridge and heating up their prizes in the microwave later and the newcomers joined the already seated pair at the table.

“So, you two had fun.” Never let it be said that the Black Widow was not a rabble-rouser.

“Natasha!” Steve yelled, scandalized. He had plenty of confidence in himself when he was performing the acts, talking about them not so much.

She answered back playfully, “Steve!”

He really shouldn’t, really, but it just wouldn’t stay inside his head. “So, it wasn’t fun?” The Soldier asked, tilting his head in curious confusion that was anything but innocent.

The resounding thud Steve’s head made as it dropped against the table was very satisfying, as was the blood red tips of his ears and back of his neck that could be seen even with him not showing his face.

“Going to take that to mean it was,” The Soldier added, just for good measure, and there it was, Steve’s embarrassed groan. Good times.

“You’re surprisingly chipper yourself there Terminator, what got into you? Find Bruce’s stash?” Tony poked just to see what would happen, considering the Soldier seemed to be in that kind of mood himself.

“Bruce’s what?” That made him blink in disbelief several times.

“I still think one of the ways he uses to get his little Hulk issue under control has got to be like the biggest bag of weed any of us has ever seen.” Tony admitted. “Actually, knowing him, he could probably breed something up that’d even knock you on your ass.”

“You know what, the more I hear about that guy the more I want to know him.” The Soldier responded slowly. “Purely to know how much of this is bullshit or not.”

“It is hard to make this shit up though,” Tony pointed out. “Not impossible though, props to the people that can I guess.”

The Soldier realized then that Steve still had his head down and wasn’t budging, “Come on Stevie, you need to get up and eat, stop pretending to be a beetroot.”

Tony’s eyes met Natasha’s, the both of them trying not to laugh, and words tumbled out of Tony before he could stop them, “Did…did you just call him Stevie?”

“…Maybe.” The Soldier got real interested in his plate right around then.

“Oh god, Bucky and Stevie, that’s adorable.” Tony was about to fall out of his chair and he didn’t seem to notice because he was laughing so hard.

“Come on Tony, I think I was freaking seven when he started calling me that. Seven! It’s no big deal.” Steve tried to deflect.

Tony tried to calm down he really did, but he was still laughing a bit as he responded, “I’m sorry, not making it a bad thing. I think it’s really sweet.”

“It isn’t like your name isn’t a nickname, and it fits the pattern too,” Once again, Black Widow was definitely a rabble-rouser.

Slow blinks from three people around the table as it hit them she had a point.

Then her eyes got a mischievous glint to them that had all three males both curious and frightened, “Are you guys going to keep the pattern for my brother or start something new?”

Steve’s head nearly thudded against the table again, and it would have, accept the Soldier had anticipated the move and intercepted him by slipping his right arm between Steve’s skull and the table. Steve turned and pressed his face into the Soldier’s chest instead, “Our son is her brother, why didn’t I put that together?”

“Going out on a limb here, but I think you may have been in shock.” Tony soothed from the other side of him, rubbing his back.

Natasha fought the urge to smile, “Now that right there, deserves a picture. You look good together.”

“Hard to go wrong really, you’ve got Devilishly Handsome, Humanity Perfected, and Scarily Beautiful, so hard to find a bad pose.” Tony shrugged, categorically ignoring the Soldier’s questioning look at the descriptions.

Oh well, he would just have to use his words, “Am I Devilishly Handsome or Scarily Beautiful? We both know which one of us is perfection, and it sure as hell isn’t me.”

“That information is for me to know and you to have fun guessing,” If there was such a thing as a verbal sashay, that was exactly what Tony just did. “I am curious about something though.” He got a tilt of the Soldier’s head like a curious puppy in response. “What is perfection going to look like when he starts showing?” Oh wow, Tony didn’t think his pupils would dilate quite that fast, but there they were.

“Beautiful,” The word was a puff of air, the arm that was loosely around Steve drew him a little closer.

“Agreed, but you could be in a bit of trouble there Barnes.” Tony made sure to keep the tease in his tone as obvious as possible just in case, he didn’t want to ruin the playful mood.

A raised eyebrow from the Soldier, but it was Steve who broke in, “What kind of trouble? Why?” He could hear that Tony was teasing so he was more weirdly confused than scared or angry.

“Well he did kind of get a national icon pregnant. Vandalizing public property is a crime, pretty sure there’s going to be a lot of people who think making Captain America’s glorious abs disappear for a few months qualifies.” Tony informed, trying and failing to hide a smile. “Then again if our plan works the media is going to think it was me assisting you with this particular magic trick.”

“The media changes direction every time they see a new shiny thing, their attention spans are shorter than a hummingbird’s, surely once they get a look at the baby -from a safe distance- they’ll forgive us.” Steve had been in the modern century long enough to know how the news stations worked, he had to if he wanted to keep up leading a team of super powered people without a safety net of support.

“Of course they will, it’s getting to that point that’s going to be a wild ride.” Tony pointed out.

Natasha’s voice interrupted them, “Soldat? Are you okay?” He had gone quiet on them and with his state earlier she was making sure he hadn’t started shutting down again.

“Yes Spiderling,” He answered promptly, so words weren’t stuck, he was choosing not to speak.

“What are you thinking, Buck?” Steve prompted, using Tony’s tactics for him on the Soldier had produced good results so far so he was going to keep doing it.

“That the media are idiots, Captain America is an icon yeah but that is a title you are a person, and that I really -really- want to see what you look like showing our boy.” The Soldier admitted piece by piece.

Tony responded before Steve could attempt to, “He’s got a lot of growing to do, but we’ll see him soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing facts for this fic since I have actually crossed the bridge of sexual interaction -Fact One-There are no incest pairings. -Fact Two- no minor will be paired with an adult but in general I ignore age gaps once people are legal -Fact Three- I don’t limit my relationship pairings based on gender, and there actually is het pairings in this fic I just haven’t developed them much yet, but I will tell you flat out that I do not write even vague heterosexual sex due to a personal reason that has nothing to do with my feelings towards that orientation or my own orientation. -Fact Four-Most of the characters in this story would fall into either bi or pan depending on how you define those terms, me choosing to pair them up with the same gender does not make them suddenly not bi, just points out a failing in the MCU for having so many well developed male characters and relatively few females. -Fact Five- There are two planned Ace characters in this story and a third I am considering but haven’t made the final decision on.


	13. Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of bonding and then finally T'Challa!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is double my typical length as you may have noticed. I was determined to get T’Challa in here at last, but there were too many good opportunities for bonding to pass up before that. The compromise? Double length chapter. Confession time, I mentioned I was in school, but not what for. I am double majoring in Sociology and Psychology, figuring out how people work is my thing. One of the more intriguing things I like about interpersonal interactions is how little things, like grooming and feeding, can be so interestingly intimate. Not inherently sexual mind you, the intimacy of the acts is not dependent on whether there is or isn’t a sexual component. It is those interactions I like writing the most. 
> 
> I bring up names for the Soldier in this chapter, and I feel it’s important to point this out. Each person is going to choose a name to use for him that feels comfortable for them both. That means the names I’ll be using during dialogue are how the team sees him, however the name in the text body is how the Soldier sees himself. As his recovery progresses he will slowly come to refer to himself mentally as something else, but he isn’t in that headspace yet. He’s only been free for a week, he needs time.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Thirteen  
Human

 

The day T’Challa was scheduled to arrive was a flurry of activity in the tower, preparing the conference room and themselves for a good first impression. 

Rhodey was the one to address the topic directly over breakfast that morning, held a bit later in the day so Steve could attend looking a tad green but over the worst of the sickness. “Alright Tony, what’s the best way of approaching this? Are we talking business suits and ties? Avengers uniforms? Mix of the two?” 

Tony fiddled with his coffee mug while he thought about it, “Well T’Challa is likely to be in a formal suit, so we should at least be on that level. Personally, I think it would be a good idea to avoid the whole Avenger’s regalia for the first meeting, this is about getting him to know and trust us, pomp and flash would be overkill. Although, if any of you military folks feel like pulling out dress uniforms, that might not be a bad idea. We want him to understand that this team doesn’t have a problem following a chain of command so long as the terms are reasonable. You soldier boys coming in with all your pretty buttons and ribbons will help with that image.” 

“What if we don’t have either one?” The Soldier asked quietly. He had been given a room stocked with clothes in his size at the tower, but it took him more than twenty-four hours to step foot inside and his gut reaction was to reject so much open space. He willingly spent his time bouncing between Steve and Natasha to give him familiar contact points that helped him find his boundaries in this alien place. The clothes provided came in a relatively small variety of styles and colors, obviously a measure taken to avoid overwhelming him, one that he greatly appreciated when even the little that was there could make him spend nearly an hour just staring and running his hands over the different fabrics. He hadn’t been able to choose his own clothing in seventy years, so the reaction was not a surprise. 

That meant clothes he had, formal suit or military dress? Not so much.

Tony didn’t seem phased by the question, and that was something the Soldier was learning to like about him. Whenever something came up that might be awkward or unnerving about the Soldier in his recovery Tony either deflected it or met it head on without making it sound like a chore to do so, and was casually fearless in a way that made the Soldier feel almost normal with his oddities. “I may or may not have ordered a suit for you in anticipation of some interested party or another getting wind of you being, you know, alive and quite possibly the longest prisoner of war anyone has ever heard of; figured you would need it at some point even if I wasn’t entirely sure exactly who would get to us first. Considering you flinch when someone calls you by name, kind of thought starting you out with ye olde Sergeant’s plumage might be a bit much.” 

“I still flinch?” The Soldier thought he was at least aware of all the issues his brain was pulling on him; apparently, he missed that one wasn’t as controlled as he hoped. 

“Not every single time, and it’s more obvious if you aren’t expecting someone to call your name, but yeah you do.” Tony informed without pity, hey if his body was doing something involuntarily, he’d sure as hell want someone to tell him he was doing it. 

The Soldier tugged a hand through his hair, tied into a loose tail, and huffed in agitation, “Damn, need to work on that.” 

“The fact you don’t jump three feet in the air anytime someone breathes too loudly is a freaking miracle.” Sam interrupted. “I worked with PTSD for a living. As long as all you are doing is setting yourself a goal to work towards, that’s fine and I’ll encourage that, but if you are trying to put yourself down for not doing better then you and I are going to have a serious talk.” 

The Soldier got very quiet for a long moment, a question in his eyes that took him time to decide was worth asking, “PTSD?”

“Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.” Steve filled in, having had to do that for himself not so long ago. “One of the better things about this time is that they have words for things we didn’t before. Makes it a lot easier to try and tell someone what’s going on in your head. The closest thing we had to this was shellshock, but they figured out more than just combat can kick it off. Any kind of intense trauma, or little traumas building up, can cause it. I have it, but it took me a long time to understand what it was. I didn’t know most of the difficult things happening to me were connected, or that there was a name for it now that meant I could get help dealing with it.”

“You know, I don’t think I realized until now how much of a disadvantage you were running on,” Clint mused, either not noticing or not caring that he was now being stared down by two Super Soldiers, and considering who he was it was probably the not caring option. “I mean think about it, everyone gets that you missed people, dates, pop culture; that kind of thing. I never thought about you not having the words to tell someone about mental health issues you might be having, even though I knew enough about your history to guess you probably had PTSD to some degree.”

“Therapy wasn’t really a thing in the thirties and forties either,” Sam added onto Clint’s statement, “At least not the way we think of therapy.” 

Steve got a smile on his face that was more of a grimace, “Therapy was something you went to if you were rich and had time to waste. Shield tried to set me up with a therapist right after the ice, but they started up the sessions without bothering to explain what I was doing there. I just thought it was a particularly in-depth debrief. To this day I have no idea if they really didn’t know that I had no idea how therapy worked, or if they were Hydra and deliberately blocking me from getting help.” It was only in retrospect that all the little encounters that never quite made sense started to feel slimy. “Most of the progress I’ve made on this I can trace to Sam and visiting him at the VA, it at least started me looking in the right place.” 

“I still have some of my psychology books if you two are interested in reading them,” Sam offered to Steve and the Soldier. “I only bothered keeping the ones that were worth it, so they’re a good place to start if that’s a road you like.”

They shared a glance, the Soldier speaking first, “I think that might not be a bad idea.”

“I’d like that too, thanks Sam.” Steve’s smile was much brighter this time.

“Soldat, there is a question that got lost in the shuffle though,” Natasha broke in before conversation could derail further. “What do you want to be called during the meeting? Is there one name that might be easier than others?”

He was relaxed enough to roll his eyes at her comment despite the full table around them, “I didn’t even realize I was still flinching, I don’t have any idea what’s better or worse. Barnes works for what we’re doing so let’s just go with that.”

Steve nudged his knee under the table, “Is it really okay that I still call you Bucky?” 

The knee nudged back, “It’s hard sometimes, to hear that name when I’m not that person anymore. It helps when I remember that you don’t expect me to be. I want to meet you in the middle, if you are still willing to use the name after coming to understand that I might remember being him but I’m not him, then I’m going to let you even if it takes me time to get used to it.”

Steve’s brows furrowed in consternation, “I don’t want to do it if it’s hurting you.”

“Not really hurt,” The Soldier was really frustrated with his own vocabulary, finding the right way to say what he wanted was exhausting. “It doesn’t hurt me when you call me Buck or Bucky, it’s more shock and surprise. And memories, lots of memories come back every time you say it, especially if you are talking about older times when you use it. I might be overwhelmed with it all now, but Steve it won’t always be that way. I just told you I want to meet you at that middle ground, it’s okay.” 

“Just make sure you tell me if that ever changes alright,” Steve insisted worriedly, not realizing the mild command imbedded in the concern.

The hum of the mission orders grew warmer in the Soldier’s head in response to his commander’s care for him. A sensation that the Soldier was completely unprepared for and actually did make him tense up in shock, though he didn’t fully jump.

“Soldat, do you need to go somewhere quiet for a minute?” Natasha tried to intervene, guessing he was overloaded. 

He took a few deep breaths to settle himself before he could respond, “I’m alright. Caught off guard.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you too hard.” Steve apologized, looking guilty. 

“That wasn’t the problem.” He refuted. “Not sure you want me to tell you what it really was.” If he was feeling guilty thinking he just asked a little too much, how would he feel about accidently using the leash? 

“If it’s bothering you I’d like to know about it so it doesn’t happen again,” Steve pointed out. 

The Soldier contemplated that for a moment, then responded slowly so he could get the words right to the best of his ability. “I’ve never had an order make me feel better just by itself before, it was even more surprising because I know you didn’t mean to do it.” 

Steve went over their conversation in his head, and the Soldier realized the exact moment the wording hit him from the look of sick horror. “Shit, I did give you an order. I was worried about you and didn’t think.”

“Exactly Steve, you were worried about me. It made the order feel like all those times you were wrapped around me, all warm and safe and there. That isn’t a bad feeling, just freaking weird when it is all in your head and you had no idea anything like that could even happen.” He attempted to explain. 

Sam chuckled, “Wait, so Cap just gave you a mental hug?” 

“Pretty much, yes.” The Soldier admitted. 

“Wanda and I, we can do that too,” Pietro spoke up, grinning at his sister. “It is nice after a scare or long day. I can only knock on the door and wait to be let in, but even that little bit helps.” 

“That would be interesting to feel,” Rhodey mused, “But we really should start getting things ready. Doing anything around here can feel like herding cats so if we want to get done by the time Prince T’Challa gets here we have to move.” 

“You heard the man, hop to it, and if you happen to get lost somewhere along the way JARVIS is a regular old Pied Piper for cats and Avengers as it turns out. He’ll get you back on track.” Tony used his mug like a gavel to dismiss the team, having far too much fun with it as he did, but at least he had enough practice being impulsive he didn’t break anything. They lost enough china with Thor and Steve around, both still had the occasional mishap when sleep deprived or excited. 

The team did start clearing out following that, more because Rhodey was right than anything Tony said, and they made a point of throwing looks his way ranging between amusement and exasperation. 

The Soldier was following Steve and Tony, correctly deducing since there was no suit in his room then it was likely stored in theirs, before he turned back to the table to take in the whispering twins and Natasha, “Maximoff, you should come with us.” Of course, that got more than one person’s attention, but he could handle that. “Little Witch is welcome, but I was talking to Silver this time.” 

“Aside from the fact we need an actual nickname for Speed Demon here, what are you up to?” Tony asked curiously, but didn’t bother objecting since there really wasn’t any harm in the twins and a now curious Black Widow following them to their room like a string of the weirdest ducklings ever. 

“Just a hunch,” The Soldier replied simply, not elaborating even when stared down by his Spiderling. Steve knew better than to overtly act on his own curiosity, and decided to pick up the pace because the quicker they got where they were going the faster they would figure out what the Soldier had in mind. 

The main living area of the Penthouse was spacious and open, the floors smooth stone rather than wood or carpet, though they had heaters running beneath that kicked on whenever occupants were around in socked or bare feet. The furniture was modern, all wood glass and metal, but surprisingly comfortable when seated thanks to well-placed cushions. Tony was a man who enjoyed both style and comfort in exactly equal measures and this was his home. 

The Soldier had broken off from the main group and gone over to the bar area, but considering he didn’t drink both because his metabolism was similar to Steve’s now in the inability to get drunk and on the off chance he was wrong he refused to let a drug take over his actions, the watching group knew he was up to something else. He pulled one of the barstools away from the counter and looked between it and Pietro pointedly. 

Pietro was there in a rush of air, eager to see what the Soldier had in mind, “Stay there and be patient for a minute.” The order was not one the speedster liked hearing and his face fell, especially when he registered the teasing tone underlying the words. 

He was tempted to follow the Solider through the doorway he disappeared beyond, but one look at his sister kept him in place. He was playing along for now since whatever glimpse of the Soldier’s mind Wanda had gotten that first day had left her firmly on his side of any debates. 

Steve and Tony were sticking around to watch too, not dispersing to shower or change just yet. Glad for that decision when the Soldier came back with a white towel slung over his left shoulder, a slim black case in his hand, and a shallow basin tucked under his arm. Steve’s face broke out in a smile putting it together first, Tony following suit a second later. 

The Soldier carefully laid the items out on the counter, army precise, and glanced up at Steve, “I know you’re going to want to help, don’t. I’ll let you do the same for me next instead.” He didn’t mind if this was watched, but it wouldn’t feel right to be interfered with. 

“So, anyone going to tell me why I’m sitting here?” Pietro demanded impatiently, eyeing up the case and basin suspiciously. 

The Soldier turned back to him, “I’ve made a few guesses about you these last few days, and I’d like to try something if you’re willing.” With that the Soldier opened the case and handed it to Pietro for him to inspect the contents. 

It was a shaving kit, old fashioned and beautiful, like something right out of a forties barber shop. 

Pietro froze at the implications of feeling any kind of touch near his cheeks and neck. The shudder came involuntarily and shook his whole body in a way the Soldier was intimately familiar with.

“I was right then,” He simply continued calmly, taking the case back. “You are like me and don’t like anything touching your face, though I’m willing to bet you have trouble with your throat too.”

“It’s both,” Pietro admitted. “As punishment I could be gagged, smothered, or strangled. They’d mostly use cloth or ropes, sometimes metal muzzles, and I was strangled bare handed once. I use my voice as a tool along with my speed, so they took it away from me when I made them angry. That feeling of being so vulnerable, it’s awful.” Pietro was like Tony in that he had learned that sound was a weapon, and he used it, but it meant the people experimenting on him had something they could easily use against him in the confines of his cell. 

“This is one way I’m fighting that reaction,” The Soldier responded, indicating the kit. “My face, hell my body wasn’t mine to control when I was with Hydra. This helps get used to facial touch in a way that is useful and can stop at any time, and there is no pressure because nothing is riding on it but a bit less scruff, so it is good practice. You up for it? You want to stop, call it and I’ll back off, I am the last person in this tower that will disobey your will.” 

“Did you have to go and say it like that? Now if I back down I’ll feel like a coward,” Pietro grumbled. “Fine, go ahead and try, but this could stop fast.”

“Well, fast is what you’re known for kid.” The Soldier teased, pulling out the straight razor, thick bristle brush and cake of shave soap. The basin was quickly filled with warm water from the bar's sink and brought back to the counter. 

The cream needed to be worked into a lather with the brush, and it felt nice if the brush worked some of it into the skin, but the Soldier knew better than to try using the stiff bristles against Pietro’s skin the first time. “I’m going to start.” He warned, before using a light touch to first dampen his skin, then scoop up a handful of lather in his right hand and carefully manipulate Pietro’s head back with his metallic left. Hearing the kid had been muzzled meant the Soldier wanted to keep that hand out of it as much as possible, so he used gentle directive touches at temple and hairline as far away from his jaw neck and mouth as he could manage. 

As much as it looked like Pietro was sitting on the barstool all cool and confident, the Soldier could feel his pulse pounding in his throat like a bird trying to escape. He didn’t linger or call attention to it, keeping up steady movements and telegraphing each one as he made it, getting a nice even layer of the cream over his neck and jaw, with Pietro only flinching away when he both felt and saw the Soldier’s hand moving against his cheeks in his task. “Are you going to be able to sit still when I get to this part with the blade?” It was important, the Soldier wasn’t trying to embarrass him.

“I don’t know.” Pietro was not happy with himself, that much was obvious with the tone, but at least he was telling the truth as much as he didn’t like it. 

A moment to set his clean hand on Pietro’s shoulder, “Remember, the moment you want to stop, I will.”

“I remember, you can keep going for now.” Pietro allowed. 

The careful pull and scrap of metal against skin was rhythmic and potentially soothing, if the person with the most kinetic energy in the tower hadn’t frozen stalk still at his touch. Pietro wasn’t even breathing, or he wouldn’t have been if the Soldier hadn’t deliberately pulled back for a few moments after every couple of strokes with the blade to give him the chance. It was slow progress, but progress. 

The Soldier was a little afraid he had pushed this too soon, that Pietro was simply too stubborn to say he wasn’t ready for this, but slowly -very slowly- Pietro started relaxing. Not too obviously, but it was there, in the way he took shallow breaths even with the touches against his face and started to slump a bit as he sat. 

In a somewhat ironic turn of events, the Soldier was better at this now than he had been in the past. An affinity for bladed weapons that he hadn’t developed before improved his control and precision, and without a blushing Steve in front of him for distraction, he finished the job with all the care Pietro needed but with smooth efficiency that he probably would not have displayed seventy years ago. He followed the line of the style Pietro was obviously establishing for himself but his issues with touching the skin around his face made maintaining difficult. The Soldier understood, if it wasn’t for Steve’s steady presence he would never have been rid of his own scruff from two months’ confinement. 

With a bit of surprise from the room, the Soldier was allowed to finish, dipping the towel in the warm water and handing it Pietro, “Put this against your face, it will feel good. I don’t want to do that part to you if you were restrained with cloth at any point.” The part of his brain that filed away information was impossible to turn off as Tony discovered, he had missed nothing in what Pietro had admitted, the Soldier just knew the Speedster wasn’t wanting to dwell on it. 

Pietro took the towel, but left a breeze in his wake as he sped into the bathroom to check the job done by the Soldier, long moments of pleased preening followed that had Wanda rolling her eyes and Natasha covering up laughter. 

“Think it’s safe to say he likes it,” Tony observed, looking back and forth from the bathroom -where Pietro hadn’t bothered closing the door- to the Soldier in amusement.

“He does,” Wanda assured in place of Pietro for the moment. 

“Want to get your turn out of the way Buck?” Steve offered while the Soldier was still loose and relaxed from a job well done. The Soldier just got up on the stool and waited rather than bother to find words. 

Steve grabbed a fresh towel and cleaned the razor before starting the process over again, copying their old method as closely as he could. There was a surprising amount of products available that brought a little of their old life back, and this ritual of taking care of shaving needs was an intrinsic part of them. 

He ignored the watching group around them, climbing onto his Soldier’s lap with lathered brush in hand, measured strokes painting thick lather across his neck and cheeks. Switching out brush for blade he cleaned off the white cream stripe by stripe, leaving smooth bare skin behind. He was aware of every fiber of muscle in the Soldier’s body sitting against him like this, and because of that he could accommodate any twitching or tensing that even the Soldier himself had trouble predicting. Steve and the Soldier had worked out the first time they did this after coming back from the cell that shaving parts of his jaw and around his mouth was difficult, and with all the people in the room there was no way it would work so Steve trimmed around them, going for the groomed lines of deliberate style rather than overgrowth. Something he had witnessed enough in this century to figure would look good on the Soldier, and if he ended up not liking it then it would be a simple thing to take more off later. He finished off with wrapping the warm towel around the Soldier’s freshly shaved face, pulling him close for a moment to place a kiss on the open skin of his forehead before backing away to let him move freely again.

When Steve was done the Soldier was in a markedly better mood, as were most of the people watching either from amusement or something a little warmer in the blood in the case of Tony. 

Pietro had reemerged by then, “Thank you, that was, nice.” He had been too overwhelmed to express anything right away. He had retreated with style until he got a little better control over himself again. Managing to sit the whole time did not make it easy.

And the Soldier would be the last person to call him on not finding his words right away. “You’re welcome, it is good sometimes to understand you’re not alone.”

“Now come on you, we should leave them be, or all of us are never going to get ready on time,” Natasha interrupted, sounding regretful, but she did have a point. 

“First time I can remember wearing a suit,” Pietro mused, following her and Wanda out of the room. 

“Which is why yours is in Clint’s room, he’ll give you a hand. Wanda, I have your things.” Natasha informed, herding the twins in front of her towards the elevator, tossing a look of exasperation over her shoulder at Steve, Tony, and the Soldier, but she was grinning through it so they knew she was enjoying herself. 

Tony turned to share an amused glance with the other two, “Never really saw Black Widow as the motherly type, but apparently I was wrong.”

“From everything you’ve mentioned about the Twins being adopted, I'm guessing she is one, at least legally. Not sure if it's to one or both since I wasn’t here to see the initial circumstances, but my bet's on her Little Witch.” The Soldier observed. 

“Even a name on a birth certificate doesn’t make you a good parent,” Tony responded swiftly, “Acting like a parent is more important than any piece of paper or blood status will ever be.”

“I feel like there is a story there but I am the worst person to poke at it, so I’m going to leave it be.” The Soldier decided. 

“Good plan,” Tony complemented, “And you would have lost the bet by the way. Nat is closer to Wanda now, but when we first got them out of Sokovia we had to make decisions quickly. Strucker was in the wind and we didn’t know who else might be looking for them, so we altered the paperwork, that’s what is giving Rhodey most of his headache. We randomized the Twins birthdays and made Pietro a year older on paper, then Natasha adopted him and Clint adopted Wanda. Their last name was actually changed too, from their father’s to their mother’s, as just another way of obscuring the trail. The two of them were eighteen at the time, nineteen now; so the adoption was nothing more than a way of legally getting them into this country in a way Strucker would have trouble tracking. He wouldn’t expect a couple of assassins to offer up parental status, and even if he combed through adoption records he would be looking in the wrong place. My legal team is very well paid. It probably worked too, they weren’t targeted until after they started working with us in the field, and the trap was a field op. It may have been just as much to check the Twins were still with us as a direct target on them.” 

“Opportunistic asshole,” The Soldier muttered. 

“Very much so,” Tony agreed. “Among a host of other things. Now I’m probably going to regret saying this, and don’t either of you dare repeat this, but Natasha is right we should be getting to primping.”

“Ah, Tony, I love you dearly, but you’re the one that takes the longest to get ready,” Steve teased from where he was carefully cleaning and putting away the shaving supplies, the kit shared between him and the Soldier. 

“Hold that thought, we will just see if that’s still true in another five months or so,” Tony hit back, swerving around Steve’s swatting hand as he made a dash for the bathroom, only to loop back around for a kiss before finally disappearing.

The Soldier looked between Steve and the closed door, “We aren’t going to see him for a good hour are we?”

“At least,” Steve agreed, “Good news is since he took the bathroom out here, that means he left us the one in the bedroom.”

“Yeah, but didn’t he forget clothes?” The Soldier noticed.

Steve’s cheeks lit up, “Um, Bucky, I don’t think he actually forgot, Tony doesn’t have any body shame, at all. Too impulsive and confident for it.” 

A raised eyebrow and bark of laughter, “Alright, so you do have a little fun now and again. Good to know. He get you to let loose a bit with that technique?”

Shifty eyes, “Maybe?”

“No fooling me Stevie, we lived on top of each other in that apartment and then joined the army where privacy was a word you had to kiss goodbye. You don’t have any shame, none of us did.” The Soldier teased. 

“Let’s just go get dressed alright?” Steve grumbled, ears burning, but he didn’t actually deny it. 

The Soldier followed Steve into the bedroom but waited while the blond searched through the walk-in closet, the tiny space inside something he avoided if he was able, but soon Steve was returning with a garment bag slung over his arm and a pair of shoes in his other hand. “Tony enjoys going overboard, so this might feel like a lot at first. Let yourself get used to it slowly. If the jacket is too heavy you can probably get away with just the button up since you intend to stay in the background of the meeting.” Steve explained. 

“Stop fretting and let me see,” The Soldier barked, and the tone of command worked on Steve then as well as it did seventy years ago. He laid the garment bag on the bed, unzipping it to reveal the dark blue suit and black shirt, accessories neatly folded at the bottom of the bag. 

“Oh and Buck, I’m about to do something that is either perfect or stupid.” Steve admitted before going back to look for his own clothes, not letting the Soldier get in a single comment that he desperately wanted to after that little tidbit.

It wasn’t hard to tell what he meant by that though when Steve came back, neatly pressed clothes on a hanger, his smirk bright and daring. “What do you think?” 

“I think Stark’s going to pass out and you’re going to give the rest heart attacks.” The Soldier warned drily, already shucking off his current clothing to exchange it for the suit. He had showered earlier in the morning anticipating the backlog of showering times. 

“He did say any of us soldier boys…” Steve trailed off with a bright grin.

“Yeah yeah, hit the showers, then make everyone’s jaw hit the floor.” The Soldier shooed him off. 

The Soldier had no idea how the inventor had figured out his sizes, or how to make a suit fit over the metal arm, but he had. He suspected JARVIS and a friendship with Bruce who needed fabric that could accommodate tremendous changes in growth without tearing or fraying. Forget Stark’s legal team, the Soldier wondered how much his tailor was paid. It wasn’t that you couldn’t tell the arm was there, the size difference was obvious for anyone who looked for it, just that the fabric didn’t seem to restrict his movement or catch on the shifting plates like he found so incredibly annoying with most long sleeve shirts he’d tried since regaining a choice. He normally wore sleeveless shirts like Hawkeye trying to deal with the issue.

He didn’t like wearing the tie, but the vest and jacket were a comforting kind of weight, like his tactical gear on missions. That thought didn’t frighten him as much as it probably should have, at a time when he didn’t have any control and his mind was battered and stripped raw the gear had been his only protection. That weight meant safety.

He didn’t pay any attention to Steve coming out of the bathroom and going through age old motions, donning one piece after another, until only jacket and hat were left on the bed. Both of them knew when the other wanted a moment to reflect and think, the easy silence between them cherished for its meaning. 

The Soldier picked up Steve's jacket and held it out for him wordlessly, pulling it around broad shoulders with a kiss to each one as he went. He fastened polished buttons with the same care, short press of lips, secure button, repeat; until there were no more buttons. His body remembered doing this before, not as often as pulling off tattered and stained red-white-and-blue, but this had a familiar ring to it too. 

He stepped back and admired the picture Steve made, and the statement he was attempting, “Where did you even get this?”

“Sam got me the uniform and Rhodey helped me figure out where and when I can wear it, I hid it from Tony because I wanted to surprise him. After DC I just wanted to remember what made me want to do this in the first place. This uniform, my first real uniform, made me feel like I was a part of something worthwhile. I fought and lied my way into this uniform, hell I ran away from you the night before you shipped out to get this. I never dreamed of being Captain America, but I always wanted to be a soldier. This meeting is deciding our fate, so I am going into it as exactly what I am.” Steve explained, smoothing down the spotless fabric of his Army jacket, not the modern one he’d been presented with out of the ice in the most awkward and overwhelming ceremony to date since he’d barely been in the new century for a week and knew almost nothing about anything. What he wore right now was the same as his uniform from World War II, and he had every right to wear it as a veteran of that war. They had even managed to return or reissue his metals from the various locations they ended up in since he landed the plane in the arctic. It felt so good to be himself again.

That was when Tony came back in the room, towel wrapped around his waist loosely, obviously not caring about his lack of clothing. Of course he caught sight of the two Super Soldiers, and the sound that left him was not human, and was possibly only heard somewhere in the register only dogs could. “Are you trying to kill me?” He whined, sounding like he was in pain. 

“If it helps, you aren't the first to trip over yourself when he puts that on, it's not completely intentional but he does enjoy seeing the reactions.” The Soldier interjected, his face calm, but his tone was laughing. “You have a thing for uniforms or is it all just him?” 

“Both, both is good.” Tony shivered, and then picked the shattered pieces of himself off the ground. He was Tony Stark, he could recover from a pretty face, no matter how exceptional. “And just so you know, it’s not just uniforms, I also like a good suit or nice dress, not picky. Taking care of yourself is sexy.” He very pointedly looked the Soldier up and down at that, “I picked the right color.”

“I have questions about how in the hell you made it work with the arm, but those can wait until you are not standing here in a towel.” The Soldier reminded pointedly. 

Tony had the grace to laugh but struck back almost immediately with, “Spoilsport!” While heading to his closet on the opposite side from Steve’s, which explained to the Soldier how the classic uniform could remain hidden despite being in the same room. 

The Soldier’s gaze flickered to Steve. “Told you so.”

“Yeah, you did.” Steve chuckled in agreement. “I’m glad you got to see first though, when I arranged to have this uniform again I never would have thought that was how it would work out, but it was fitting.”

“It was.” The Soldier agreed. “Now let’s give Tony some room. JARVIS, does anyone look like they could use a hand?” 

“There appear to be no immediate calls to aide. Arrangements are progressing as planned with no delays or interruptions, Mr. Wilson and Colonel Rhodes have finished their personal preparations and are waiting in the common area for our guest, and all others are still sequestered in their living quarters.” The AI informed. 

“Stay here or head down?” Steve asked, seeing Tony come back with a suit in a dry cleaner bag, belt, tie, and shoes all precariously held in various ways around it, dress socks stuffed in the cavity of the shoes. 

“Give me just a few minutes, would you?” Tony requested, “I have got to see their reactions to you in that. JARVIS buddy, you’re amazing, but this is a gotta be there kind of thing.”

“Understood Sir,” Could an AI sigh? Because Steve thought he just heard him sigh. 

Steve and the Soldier just slipped out of the bedroom and waited in the main room of the Penthouse, and Tony being Tony, didn’t need any more time to put on a business suit than some people took to put on running clothes. He could take longer if he felt like it, but didn’t have to, and he was impatient to see the team’s reaction to Steve in WWII era military garb. 

By the time they exited the elevator, Steve in the back, Clint and Pietro had joined the group and must have just beaten them down by a few minutes. 

Two words, “Holy shit!” Clint spotted Steve first, he kept up a constant scan of the room, and it would be hard to miss that. 

Needless to say, that drew the other three’s attention. Steve drew his shoulders back and stood at attention, an amused smile on his face at the reaction he knew he’d be getting. 

“Pictures don’t really do it justice, do they?” Sam was laughing, the only one in the room from this century who had gotten to see Steve wearing this before in person.

“You look good yourself Sam,” Steve complimented, pointing out the fact the ex-Pararescueman was in military dress as well for what had to be the first time in most of the team’s recollection. Steve had seen him at the same VA function he wore this uniform to that Sam saw him at, it was a small local thing that if pictures had leaked out the internet assumed they were faked or people cosplaying. 

“Yeah, you Soldier Boys are having far too much fun with this.” Clint teased, “But who knew Cap was hiding that?” 

Steve’s smile turned into a smirk, “I like the Air Force dress blues, Sam and Rhodey look great, but this is my uniform. I am actually more protective of it then I ever was with the Captain America uniform, no surprise really, they kept changing that one every few months. Shield did the same, makes it hard to get attached.” 

“You didn’t actually have to fight in this one,” The Soldier interrupted. “The other one was supposed to be replaceable, you were a high-profile target in a damn warzone.”

“That too,” Steve didn’t argue, knowing better than to go down that road. 

JARVIS interrupted politely, “Sir, I’d like to warn you that a Wakandan plane has entered US airspace, estimated arrival time to the tower landing pad twenty minutes.”

“Thanks J, make sure our resident Spider hears that too just in case.” Tony directed, he really did not want to know what would happen if Natasha discovered they knew T’Challa was that close and didn’t warn her. “Rhodey, you and I are going out to greet him, the rest of you behave yourselves until we get back.”

Simple enough to follow that order, Natasha and Wanda appearing ten minutes later looking neat and put together in business suits. This was new for Wanda, but she took it in stride and looked great. Natasha was well trained to make anything and everything look like the most natural thing in the world. 

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” Clint observed, “No Shield, no superheroes, just a couple of people in a conference room trying to figure all this shit out.” 

“That’s what it should be, we’re people Clint, not the powers we have or the titles they give us in the news.” Steve spoke slowly, getting his words right. “This deal we are trying to make today should come from who we are and what we believe. I spent my life crafting an image, and trust me, how you present yourself is the majority of the game no matter how much you bring to the table otherwise. We aren’t going to say or do anything different dressed this way as we would in our Avengers gear, but then Prince T’Challa won’t see us, he will see our personas. We can’t afford that now. This puts us on an even level in a way that we all understand, except for the three people in military dress because that's something important to have obviously noted from the outset in a conversation about oversight otherwise we would be in plain suits too. It’s all a perception game, but an important one.” 

“You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know,” Clint assured, “I guess I just don’t like that we have to do it. I mean we are the fucking good guys, why are we the ones backed into a corner?”

“Because people like to corner what they are afraid of, forgetting a cornered beast fights the hardest.” This voice was new. It was smooth, deep, and had a hint of amusement in it from overhearing the tail end of the conversation. 

Prince T’Challa stood placidly between Tony and Rhodey. He was a lean man, but every tiny movement he made was graceful and powerful in a way that suggested his body was practically boiling over with strength in the manner of jungle cats stalking prey. His bearing was proud and confident, adding height to his already impressive frame. No doubt this man was a warrior, he made every member of the team unconsciously straighten in recognition, but at the same time that power was fully under control and he was showing amusement rather than hostility. 

“Just that sentence alone tells me there is a lot more behind this conference than my message to King T’Chaka.” Tony observed, picking up on several tells within the humor. 

T’Challa looked a little troubled, “Your message merely provided my father with a guideline for timing. There are many concerning things happening, and he fears this is only the beginning.” 

“Then let us adjourn to the conference room and start discussing this, I don’t want to waste any time.” Tony decided, the others falling in step with them to the prepared room. It was on the communal floor for ease of access and could accommodate up to twenty people, but for now it just had places for those present. The Soldier slipping into place between Steve and Natasha, and it wasn’t lost on him that the Twins were bookended by Clint and Natasha. Then Rhodey, Sam, Tony, and finally Prince T’Challa got one side of the table to himself. 

“I would like to begin if I may?” T’Challa requested, getting a go on signal. “I am here in my father’s place because I have more freedom of movement, and although I can assure you that any measures I suggest are backed by my father’s word from discussions we had before sending me here, if a situation does arise that we were unable to anticipate I ask that you be patient while I seek his counsel.” 

“Of course, anything like that should be a given,” Tony assured, seeing a bunch of nods from the team around him backing him up. 

“With that established, I would like to get a few things out of the way as soon as possible, as you said there is no time to waste.” T’Challa was smoothly taking control of the meeting, and Tony was letting him, seeing that the Wakandan royal was sitting on information they didn’t have. “Our current understanding of your predicament is that the United States government is attempting to pull the Avengers team under their command, with the threat of legal persecution if you do not comply with the order; correct?” 

“Yes,” Rhodey responded to the Prince’s question first. “I have been the one directly dealing with the State Department. I can answer your questions if you want to know anything more specific about the demands being made.”

T’Challa thought about it, “What made you suspect your government? You hold a rank among the military, I can see that, so there is something else here other than oversight.” T’Challa had noticed what they wanted him to, good. 

“If all they wanted to do was oversee operations, you're right, I wouldn't have had a problem. I'm an enlisted soldier, I decided to hand myself over to the United States Air Force and go where they needed me. It was their ultimatum that sent up warning flares. The moment they told me to give them the Avengers or we would be flagged as terrorists I knew something was wrong. Especially since no amount of negotiating has changed their terms, we have no real choice in this, and even if we do as they say there is no way of leaving once they have us. The thing about oversight by governing bodies is without a choice or clear end point it isn't oversight anymore, it's internment." Yes, Rhodey was using the words brought up by the Soldier, and confirmed by the Twins. There were enough parallels it was justified.

T'Challa nodded along with the explanation, making Rhodey suspicious that he might have already known what the answer was going to be when he asked the question. Then the Prince proceeded to ask another clarifying point, "Why have these measures not been put in place already?"

"Two reasons," Rhodey was liking this guy, he asked the right things. "First, even though I have absolutely no doubt they will carry out the threat, they are going to wait to see if they can't get us backed into a corner and make at least some of us come willingly first. The Avengers still have quite a bit of public appeal, even if there is a political split concerning whether we should still be up and running that is nearly in a deadlock. The fewer of us the State Department have to Blacklist the easier it will be to make the public believe we've gone bad, as opposed to trying to mark the entire Avengers team as terrorists. The second reason is sitting a few feet away from you. When Captain America went missing the world noticed and it put a spotlight on the team. The fact they are holding back because suddenly people are watching us is just one more warning sign that what they are trying to do is not ethically above board."

"Welcome back Captain Rogers, it was good to hear of your safe return." T'Challa remarked to Steve first, before turning his gaze to the Soldier beside him. "And you, I have been told some of your story for safety reasons. I am glad you were retrieved successfully, you have been missed. I hope recovery treats you kindly."

"Thank you," Both super soldiers responded with a bit of surprise at being addressed directly.

T'Challa smoothly turned his attention to the rest of what Rhodey told him after a simple nod of acknowledgement to their response. "I have to admit, I am troubled by what I am hearing. My father is a ruler that does not meddle in the affairs of other governments because it keeps our country protected, but this does not seem like the justified actions of a reasonable state. Pardon the rudeness, but the question begs asking, do they have a lawful reason for targeting the Avengers team beyond what I assume is the obvious vying for power?"

"You want to know if the charges might be correct?" Tony knew it was coming, it was a fair question in all this and one that was better gotten out of the way sooner rather than later.

"To speak bluntly, yes. Unfortunately, that is an answer I need to hear in your own words." T'Challa willingly admitted.

Wanda's voice was soft in the space left by the Prince's reply, "You would trust us to tell the truth?"

"I trust myself to know a lie," He answered simply.

Here was the part where they might be tempted to not be honest, but that would just come back to bite them. It was Tony who took the lead in answering for the team, making sure to be avoid temptation as he did so. "This team has done things that were not legal in the name of getting information and bringing teammates home. And although we have never directly caused terror to the public or harmed an innocent person, the situations we've been involved in have; because that is the nature of fighting creatures from another world or weeding out organizations based on hate. Everything the Avengers have done, both legally and illegally, has been in the name of protecting and defending the public and ourselves. We are not terrorists, we are one of the many things fighting them."

T'Challa got a small smile on his face, "That is what I thought you would say, and if my father and I believed any different this meeting would not be happening. We simply cannot take anything for granted."

"We aren't offended," Natasha assured. "All of your questions are very reasonable considering the situation, so please ask whatever you need to."

He nodded at her in acknowledgement, "That is appreciated. Now, I know you wish our intervention in this matter, but what exactly are the Avengers asking of Wakanda?"

"The team needs someone to answer to that no other governments can argue with." Tony responded frankly. "We really don't mind the idea of oversight as much as we do the constant monitoring and threat of non-negotiable regulations on our movements. We do good things here, that help people, there is nothing to find that will be a problem if we have oversight. However, if we are wrapped up in red tape and orders they could keep us from going where we are needed fast enough, or worse they could make us go somewhere we have no business interfering."

T'Challa responded very bluntly, being careful to keep his tone even, an acknowledging glance passing between him and the Soldier that had not taken his eyes off him from the moment he had stepped into the tower. "What you are proposing would take a great deal of trust, you are essentially asking that your actions be judged after the fact rather than gaining permission for them beforehand."

"If I had waited for permission when I was collecting my black-market weapons people could have died. A lot of people were already gone before I ever started." Tony pointed out. "We will accept full consequences for our actions if we make a wrong call, but only if we have actually done something wrong to earn those consequences."

“My father has an idea, one I’m a little uncertain about, but he believes in.” T’Challa revealed. “I would be completely against it, but there is cause for some intervention, so we may not have a choice.” Here he looked directly at Tony. “Stark helped us recently prevent smugglers from getting to a vibranium shipment, what he does not know is that was not the only time our shipments were targeted. This was just the first time we were able to stop it. Someone out there is targeting Wakanda, and they are succeeding. It made my father start looking into other suspicious actions and there are more, high security shipping or storage facilities essentially vanishing overnight. This is spread out over time and distance, so must be either a large organization or a few highly dedicated zealots. Some of the terrain surrounding these events should prevent any such thing from happening, and yet, they still are. I’m sure I can let you draw your own conclusion from there.”

“Someone out there is playing with enhanced humans again,” Tony observed as more than one person at the table flinched or clenched their fists. 

“The remnants of Hydra would definitely qualify as a few highly dedicated zealots,” Steve pointed out, knuckles white where he held them under the table out of sight. “They aren’t the only organized group that would be interested in vibranium out there, but they were the closest to working out how to enhance a person, naturally or artificially.” His hand strayed to his stomach, a move covered-up by the table. He nearly jumped when the Soldier -having anticipated what Steve would do after saying that- brushed his hand lightly over his in reassurance for the both of them. 

“It is a strong theory,” T’Challa agreed, “And it is central to why my father sent me here after Stark’s message. My father is willing to place the Avengers team under Wakandan protection only if you agree to a few conditions.”

“What are the conditions?” Sam didn’t want them jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. He was the one who left the military only to end up fighting Hydra agents alongside Captain America, his life never went according to plan, but so far his only regret was losing Riley. 

“First, the Avenger’s team must abstain from political affairs in the name of any given country. This means while you may have opinions on social order and human rights, you can’t voice those on behalf of a nation, you must speak on your word alone.” He turned to look at Steve. “We acknowledge this task will be nearly impossible for you as your identity and that of your nation’s is so thoroughly intertwined. You have a choice of either avoiding the political arena altogether or attempting to rebrand yourself as something else. Whether or not that would be effective is a different question. This condition is because Wakanda is a neutral country politically and if you are a part of us you will follow that doctrine as much as you can. 

“Second, the first year will be a kind of probationary time. The trust you seek is exceptional and not something we can give easily, but there is a compromise we are willing to make. We will allow you to move as you see fit within that year, but you will accept our form of monitoring, which will be a new teammate for so long as the probationary time lasts. You will not be tracked individually beyond that single person’s evaluations. 

“Third, and lastly, the Avengers team agrees to help us find out what is causing the increased amount of attacks from what appears to be enhanced individuals. If you agree to all three conditions then we in turn will help you negotiate with your State Department to prove that our agreement is a legitimate order of protection.” T’Challa laid it all out with what almost had to be practiced smoothness. 

The Soldier’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at the middle condition, “Wait a second, who would be the new teammate?” 

T’Challa’s smile became pleased and a little challenging, raising the Soldier’s interest in more than one way, some of which may not be good for the mats in the gym, “Me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About shellshock vs battle fatigue, shellshock is older and came about after WWI Soldiers showed symptoms, so Steve and Bucky would have heard about it growing up in the city with veterans around them. Battle Fatigue didn’t exist until WWII itself, so I doubt Steve would use it as an example for Bucky when they were actively serving in the war while the term was coming into being. They could potentially have heard it in passing while at a base camp somewhere, but they wouldn’t have known much about it. There are also other even older terms used for the symptoms of PTSD (specifically Soldier's Heart and Nostalgia), but I can't find any good sources on how commonly used or known those terms were at the time so I didn't want to put them in Steve's mouth when it's a safe bet he knew shellshock, but not nearly as clear on the others.


	14. New Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers discuss T'Challa's offer and one suggestion gets them thinking about the team and who should be in it/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Netflix Universe characters are brought up here, I at least wanted to establish that they do in fact exist in this story verse, but I’m still debating which ones to include in detail. Agents of Shield will not be canon here, as personally I prefer the Netflix storylines over AoS. With one exception, I don’t like Iron Fist, so just like with the Cinematic universe I am picking and choosing what to add, instead of Danny I’m going to use Frank. 
> 
> Also this is a little less than thrilling but it sets up everything to come and needs to happen, I thought about time skipping this to something more exciting since its been so long but decided it’s better I write it the way I originally intended even if it might not be so satisfying at the moment, in the long run you will get a better story out of it. Also there is a very long end note on this chapter that is a response to a review I received recently that was important enough to address openly.

Chapter Fourteen  
New Blood

It was like the whole room was holding its breath in the wake of Prince T’Challa’s revelation. Just several moments of pure startled silence. Then it all broke at once, nearly everyone fighting to be heard over each other in their rush to question the Wakandan royal. 

Slowly, out of the din, someone managed to make themselves heard when the rest realized she had a point, “Why risk the crown prince for a surveillance job?” Natasha asked suspiciously.

“Because my father wanted to send someone trusted that was also able to keep up with the Avengers should you agree to our terms. I was the most fitting of those available, at least for the time being.” T’Challa explained calmly, though the satisfaction of throwing them all for a loop still glimmered in his dark eyes. 

“Keep up how? I kinda get the impression you would not be satisfied with remote surveillance.” Clint pointed out, T’Challa’s build and mannerisms screamed warrior not diplomat. 

“Oh trust me,” Tony broke in smoothly, “He can follow us anywhere we might go.” With that the Wakandan prince and Iron Man shared a knowing grin, the thrill of a secret blatant on both of them. 

“I never doubted that,” Clint was quick to refute, “One good look at you is all it takes to know you know what you’re doing in a fight your Highness, I meant literally how are you going to be shadowing us? We attract a lot of attention when we go out to fight, there would be no way of hiding your presence, and I thought Wakanda preferred keeping a low profile.” He explained. 

“We do prefer to stick in the background,” T’Challa acknowledged, “I will not be revealing my face, that is something you can know now, the rest will be shown in time.” He still displayed a hint of that almost playful grin as he spoke.

“So those three conditions are all that you need us to meet?” Steve attempted to get the meeting back on track a bit. The sooner they had a true agreement the safer for all of them.

“Yes,” T’Challa confirmed. “My father has some recommendations for the Avengers team in the interim between our contract and any agreements that might be forged between you and your government, but those are merely suggestions and are not required for our aide.” 

Considering this was coming from a ruler that had successfully shielded his country from all outside influences for the entirety of his reign, those suggestions immediately drew the tactically minded Steve’s attention, “What are his suggestions?” He decided to get it all out on the table from the beginning, much more efficient that way. 

T’Challa settled back into the office chair he was given, minute tension releasing as all those gathered realized if Steve was asking this then the original terms were likely accepted. “First, keep your people together as much as possible, and anyone closely connected to one of the team should be brought up to speed on the terms you will have to abide by. The closer to you someone is the more likely they will be targeted as bargaining chips, and the best way of handling that is to keep a step ahead of that thought process. Ignorance is not bliss when it comes to safety.” He gave them all hard looks to press this point.

“Second if there are any potential members you have not contacted officially yet you should do that as soon as possible. Don’t leave loose threads that might be exploited later, if we are to accurately argue protective terms with your government we need to know who we are protecting and what they are capable of doing. Every avenue must be accounted for and that includes what happens if one of the Avengers loses control of their powers. To make it clear, this suggestion is for your own protection, you do not want to be accused of hiding a particularly dangerous ally from scrutiny, best to have the truth out there.” T’Challa paused there to make sure he was understood, which gave Tony time to interject.

“That might not be the best idea for someone I’ve been keeping an eye on, he’s a minor and while he is handling himself better than most would out there, he is going to need help sooner rather than later. Bringing him onboard just to throw him into all this political bullshit doesn’t sound like a great idea” He admitted. 

T’Challa listened with a concerned frown, “I can understand the reluctance to include children in this, but if you truly believe intervention can not wait then it may prove prudent to include provisions for minors at least training with the team from the outset of the negotiations. Also, he may not be the only minor to find themselves in need of guidance, so we should plan for their presence.” 

“About that,” Clint interrupted slowly, “There will definitely be other minors here, whether they train with us is their own choice, but they will be here all the same. I want nothing to happen to them, physically or politically, so please do what you can to protect them in this contract.” 

“You would let your kids train with us?” Tony asked a bit incredulously, to the slight shock of anyone who didn’t already know Clint had children.

Clint leaned forward to take in the team with every bit of seriousness he could project, “They are mine and I’ve never hid what I do for a living from them. My oldest Bobbi has been taught to protect herself already and Cooper is just starting to learn now. I’m not going to turn them into little soldiers, but all the same if they choose to learn something I’m going to make sure they learn it as best they can. I want them safe and to be blunt I was even younger when Barney and I ran away and had to learn to survive. At least with me here I know my kids will learn the right way.” 

“I’ve seen it for myself,” Natasha added quietly, “Those two chose to follow his shadow, Cooper is a little young to know its anything more than a game, but Bobbi is fully aware of what she is learning to do and why. If there was even a hint of them being forced or being afraid you should know I would step in and stop it.” 

“How old are they?” Bucky’s voice surprised all of them, even he didn’t think he would be talking at all during the meeting. 

“Bobbi just turned fourteen, Cooper is almost six,” Clint’s proud smile shown bright as he answered. 

“Hold up, just how close to six?” Tony was onto something that made his heart rate spike with anxiety.

Clint sighed, knowing his secret would be rooted out, “Next month.” He kept the answer short, his last-ditch effort to keep it quiet.

Even Tony didn’t really want to poke the hornet’s nest he was slowly uncovering, but curiosity won out over dread. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but wouldn’t that mean you were pregnant during or right after the invasion?” 

The slow response time was all it took to know Tony was right, and Clint didn’t try to hide it any more. “During, but I didn’t know I was until after the battle, I swear, I wouldn’t have gone to fight if I had known.” 

“I believe you,” Steve assured, hand hidden below the table where he had it resting over his stomach. His terror the moment he realized he might have gotten captured while pregnant was still fresh in his mind. “But why didn’t you tell us once you did know?” 

Clint ducked his head at hearing the mild admonishment, “I only told Nat, and later the Twins when Wanda saw them in my mind, but beyond them not even Fury knows about Cooper. To be honest the only reason I’m talking about them openly like this is because I want to bring them here with us so they’re safer. The best way I knew to protect my kids was to make sure as few people knew about them as possible. I trusted the team, but all the same I couldn’t be sure about everyone surrounding it. I was already on leave after the invasion, so it was easy enough to hide. If there were hints about me getting called up before I had him I would have warned you or Fury.” 

“I can accept that,” Steve responded after a moment of thought. He then rallied himself to carry on with the meeting, “Does anyone else have someone they’re interested in bringing into the team? I agree with T’Challa, it would be best to know exactly what we are dealing with during the negotiations.”

“There are a couple of vigilantes operating in New York I’ve been shadowing so I don’t get rusty,” Natasha informed, “Most are keeping a fairly low profile and limited range, however they are starting to make a name for themselves, in particular the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is getting quite a bit of notoriety.”

“You think we should approach them?” Sam asked. “I know about one in Harlem, I still have family there and he comes up. The dude is apparently bulletproof and is doing a fairly good job of keeping crime rates lower. He goes by Luke Cage, but that might be an alias.” 

“It both is and isn’t an alias, his history is complicated,” Natasha filled in. “And I think it would be a bad idea to ignore them, we should at least speak with the active ones and see if they’re interested in affiliating with us. It’s been said before, but doesn’t hurt to repeat, this team is really nothing more than fancy vigilantes so we shouldn’t think we’re above them.” 

“I don’t think anyone here would make that mistake, but it’s less about that and more about trust. I know I’ve been monitoring my kid for a couple months now, I’ve seen enough I’m willing to chance trusting him, but how much do we know these others?” Tony brought up a good point with that.

“I’m not saying we trust them, not right away at least. They don’t have to move in, or even be here regularly. I just think they should be accounted for if they want to be, and their actions have shown they at least have the right thing in mind when they get into a fight. We should give them a chance.” Natasha pressed, if it wasn’t for Clint trusting her when by all accounts he shouldn’t have, she wouldn’t have survived as a free agent. 

Steve mulled it over, the others giving him time to think it through, he couldn’t make a real decision without a little more information though “What can these people do?” 

“Well my kid has enhanced strength, flexibility, and literally crawls across vertical buildings. He’s smart too, created his own gadgets that actually works, turned New York into his playground. Goes by Spider-Man but can’t be a day over sixteen if that.” Tony revealed first, proud of all Peter had accomplished alone, the gadgets alone were worth a second look. 

It was Natasha’s turn to fill them in on what she found in her shadowing. “The Devil is strong and fast, wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of his senses are enhanced, and the way he moves shows signs of very intense training for a long period of time. He’s a brutal fighter, but rarely goes for a killing blow even when he could. People have died fighting him but it’s not his intention from the outset. He is also very careful with his identity, I have a suspicion but I’m not actually sure who is under the mask.” She analyzed, “There is a PI in the same territory as the Devil, Jessica Jones. I discovered her after she made the news for snapping a man’s neck with her bare hands, which is a lot harder to do then the movies make it look, and she does appear to have enhanced strength. She only helps the clients that come to her, doesn’t seek out trouble. I would bet good money there’s a personal reason behind the killing considering he was the only life she ever took.

“Sam was right about Luke Cage, he actually is bulletproof. Nothing gets through his skin. I would recommend approaching him first if we decide to recruit them, he seems to have the easiest disposition of the four. He sticks to Harlem and does what he can there to help get kids clean and off the street. He busted an arms dealing ring not long ago, that’s his highest profile move so far.” There she stalled out, not sure how to describe the last one.

That made Bucky narrow his eyes at her as the silence stretched on, “If you are reluctant to talk about one of them, there’s something wrong about them.”

“Not wrong exactly,” She hedged, which just made him lift a suspicious eyebrow and wait. “It’s more like a difference of philosophy. He is like the opposite of the Devil, instead of avoiding the killing blows, this guy goes straight for them. The only reason I’m considering him at all is who he hits. Everything I’ve been able to trace to him also connected to organized crime, and the hard stuff, human tracking, guns, drugs, you name it he’s taken out groups associated with it. He never targets civilians either and doesn’t lay a hand on children, so there is reason to believe he is operating under a moral code even if its skewed.” 

“I know that description,” Tony realized with simmering anger, “You want to approach the goddammed Punisher?” 

She lifted her chin and met his eyes easily, “You are talking to the Black Widow, at the same table as the Winter Soldier and Hawkeye. All three of us are trained assassins that have been on the wrong side of the law and were given a chance to prove our history wrong. I think Frank Castle should get the same chance, just one, to try a different way of doing things.” 

“I watched his trial,” Tony was seething at the thought, “That man had zero remorse for his actions, none whatsoever. You really think someone like that would make that choice even if it was given?” 

“I don’t know, and that’s exactly why I want to give him one.” She added. “I think it will be worth talking to him at least, I’ll do it myself if that’s better for your conscience.” 

“No, you won’t, if we decide to talk to him, send me.” Bucky intruded, once again shocking the room. “If he reacts badly, I’m the hardest one for him to hurt.” The Soldier only knew what had just been spoken about the Punisher, but if he was as dangerous as it sounded and his Spiderling was as determined as she was, then it was time for him to step in. 

“That’s actually an important point for more than just the Punisher, if we are really recruiting these guys, who are we sending to talk to them?” Rhodey spoke up in the wake of the Soldier’s claim. 

“Am I the only one still stuck on what Barnes just said?” Tony refused to let the conversation shift. “You really think you’re up for something like that already?” He directed at the Soldier.

“I think I’d rather it be me than someone else,” The Soldier responded slowly. “I don’t particularly want to fight the guy, but I’m at least sure that I can if I need to. He might even talk to me like he wouldn’t with some of you. Guy like you’re describing isn’t going to be won over by sweet talk. I don’t want to be locked up inside all the time either, so there’s that too.” 

“Well, all this is moot if we decided not to approach him, so we should probably get around to I don’t know, actually talking about what we are supposed to?” Sam was about ready to scream if he had to hear more of this circular argument. They were getting nowhere debating something that might not even happen.

“I guess it comes down to this,” Steve took command again, “What are we willing to offer and who is willing to take the risk making it? I believe in second chances, but at the same time, I think we need to be seriously cautious about this. We need to keep the people we trust safe while we figure out anyone new. Any suggestions?” 

“I have one actually,” Tony informed. “A compromise, to keep us safe and give crazy vigilantes with a gun fetish an opportunity to show they are more than that. There is a second Stark property in New York, this one is a bit upstate, but if we move the Avengers base to there we could keep the tower here as a training base for babyvengers. The new compound even has multiple wings that can be closed off from each other so we can work on steadily integrating anyone who proves they can be trusted.” 

“Any downsides?” Steve inquired shrewdly. 

“Mostly in the annoyance of having to move our equipment and my lab over, but the place already has JARVIS installed and has space for us, I may or may not have been upgrading it over the last few years as a failsafe if we ever had to leave the tower for any reason. Seems like a good enough reason. You would be safe and so would Clint’s chickadees while we set up essentially reserve Avengers.” Tony explained.

“If I may be so bold as to add a thought here,” T’Challa interjected smoothly, “Moving your base away from a major city was actually the last of my father’s suggestions. It would help lower your daily profile and make it easier for all of you to refrain from political commentary if you are not being constantly inundated by those chasing a story.” The firm stipulations had to stand, and if something could make it easier for the team to keep their side of the bargain he was going to encourage it. 

“Yeah, the bloodsuckers would just be latching onto us about why we’re moving,” Tony all but whined. 

“Well, we just tell the truth,” Steve pointed out. “We are splitting up our living space from our training space to allow for more members to join us. Simple enough, and we wouldn’t have to breathe a word about any negotiations. It would leave us open to questions about new teammates, but ever since we brought the Twins back I think we’ve all gotten pretty good at dodging those.” 

“That works out living arrangements, sort of anyway as I doubt anything involving this herd of cats could be that easy, it still leaves the question of who approaches whom with what?” Rhodey reminded. 

“We offer training and the protection of official legal recognition of their actions, also backup if they ever get into something over their heads. They can either live in the tower or commute and can be kept as quiet as they wish. We won’t make any announcements without their permission and I can have drivers drop them off in the private garage which should eliminate most surveillance issues, since I designed it that way. T’Challa, would such an arrangement work with your father’s idea of supervision? I can set them up with cameras and mics I suppose.” 

“Until such a time as they are appointed to the team in full capacity trackers and communication devices should suffice during their patrolling hours. I would also like to oversee their training sessions to gauge their abilities for myself.” T’Challa responded after some thought.

“What if they want to take the deal but refuse the trackers?” Rhodey questioned. 

“Then no deal, but it will be minimally invasive and if I could speak with them before they make the final decision I will show them the equipment and explain that I will keep the information solely for my father’s use. No one else will see it unless their lives are in danger. Hopefully it will be enough to convince them I have no intention of invading their privacy on any level deeper than the rest of you, if anything it will be less.” T’Challa admitted. 

“So they are able to say no?” That was important to Sam, because one of the biggest issues the team had about the current deal the Government wanted was the lack of a choice in the matter. He wouldn’t turn around and do it to someone else. 

“Absolutely,” Steve stated firmly, without having to consult anyone. “There is a benefit to them in this deal, if we left them to operate on their own they could be subjected to the same treatment we’re getting without any kind of backup. It would be better to stand together now than to try dealing with this alone. It would also give them a chance to have their voice heard in the debate. However, no matter how much it might be a benefit there is still enough drawbacks that forcing their cooperation is just as wrong as what the government is trying.” Steve echoed Sam’s thoughts. 

“So now we need to figure out who is going to which vigilante,” Rhodey swore if he had to point this out one more time he was going to start banging heads together. 

“Well, Barnes volunteered for the prickliest one, any objections?” Tony asked the room as a whole. 

“I won’t argue with him,” Steve spoke up as everyone else shrugged, neither for or against. “I just would prefer if someone was with him, and I know that can’t be me.” 

“I’ll back up Soldat,” Natasha didn’t even hesitate, “I don’t doubt he can handle it, so I’ll leave it to him unless things get dicey.” 

“That works, you okay with that Buck?” Steve questioned, getting a nod of assent from the soldier next to him. “Alright, so Nat suggested we approach Cage first, any takers?” 

“I’ll do that one,” Sam offered, “I know his stomping grounds, shouldn’t be hard to track him down and he might be more inclined to listen to someone who knows the neighborhood.”

“Want back-up?” Rhodey offered, thinking no one should really be alone in recruiting an essentially unknown entity. 

“Sure,” Sam accepted easily, thinking along similar lines. 

"I'll handle Jones," Natasha volunteered. "I think I've got a good enough sense of her I can make a good argument."

"That works," Steve agreed, "Now who are you taking for backup?" 

"I'll go," Clint volunteered, "She seems interesting."

"Just don't get yourself punched birdbrain, sounds to me like Jones packs a wallop," Tony teased, Clint just gave a rueful smile.

“I know I’m collecting Spider-Kid,” Tony added, “I don’t really think I need backup to approach an awkward nerd of a teenager.” 

“Humor me and take someone with you,” Steve insisted, “He doesn’t sound aggressive, but that’s not really the point, we want to make him comfortable not feel like he’s trapped. Take Wanda, seeing another teen, even if older, might help him feel safe with us.” 

“Yeah, am I going to get bit if I don’t take the pair?” Tony was mostly joking but was just enough serious Wanda rolled her eyes and Pietro smirked mischievously. 

“Stark, a hair out of place on her head and a little biting is the least of your worries,” Pietro warned, earning himself a whack upside the head by his sister for his trouble.

“I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself,” Wanda admonished before returning attention to Tony. “I have no problem accompanying you.” She agreed.

“Tony, since he’s a minor it means we need to get his guardians on board with this, if he’s protecting his identity they might not even know yet. We can’t have him on the team without legal permission or things will get rough real fast,” Rhodey warned. 

“His only guardian is his Aunt, and if she doesn’t know yet I’ll see about persuading him into telling her.” Tony promised. “Kids are stubborn though and he might not do it.”

“We can train him without her knowledge, keeping him safe is the priority because if he is anything like the rest of us now that he’s started helping people he will be nearly impossible to stop, but he will not be sent on a mission or be officially acknowledged until she knows.” Steve decided, safety was paramount, but he understood the need for legal process on anything else. 

“I’ll tell him his options,” Tony agreed, it was a better bargain than he thought Steve would be party to, but then he remembered the stories about a 90 pound asthmatic who tried to fight the world. Yeah, Steve might know a thing or two about kids trying to prove themselves and what it felt like when no one let you.

“So that leaves the Devil,” Steve continued on without knowing Tony’s inner thoughts, “Who’s up for that one?” 

“I kinda want to meet the guy who’s impressed Nat,” Clint spoke up, “I’ll give it a shot. Back-up optional, I don’t mind going in alone.” 

“Like I said to Tony, humor me, have someone watching your back.” Steve insisted. 

“Nat, you want to come?” Clint asked. 

She shrugged, “I could use a little parkour practice, so sure.” 

“He’s that good?” Pietro was intrigued. 

“Shadowing him was a great workout,” She admitted. “Almost fun if I’m being totally honest.” 

“Could I come too?” Pietro was curious enough to ask. 

For that Clint looked to Natasha, “What do you say, how likely are we to get to this guy with three of us?” 

“He will know we’re coming that’s for sure, he managed to pick up on me following him alone before, which is why I think his senses are enhanced and can only suspect who he is. Even knowing that I think he’ll probably listen to us, he’s aggressive but usually needs to be provoked.” She informed. 

“Sounds like that’s the Devil worked out,” Steve noted, “So to suggest an order, Clint go get your kids as soon as we’re established in the new compound so they are safe. Tony should approach Spider-Man at the same time, then Nat suggested Cage should be first out of the adults, and I think the Devil next, then we could try Jones, and save Castle for last. Sound right to everyone else?” 

“Nothing jumps out as wrong,” Tony responded for the group when no objections came. “Now, T’Challa is there anything formal we need to do to accept your father’s offer, or are we good with a verbal agreement?” 

“Verbal is fine to begin, as soon as I send word of that an official contract will be drawn up, all signatures need to be on it before we can begin negotiations on your behalf.” T’Challa relayed. “These newcomers you speak of will also need to sign if they want to be included in the protections of resulting contracts between other parties. I can tell father to create clauses for trial members. Which will be nothing more than what has been said here but will mean someone can sign in the beginning and change their mind later without breaking the contract as a whole.” 

“Sounds like a good plan,” Tony agreed. “Now I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use dinner, so how about we break for the night. No one is approaching anyone tonight, we have a Prince to welcome first.” His tone revealed the tease behind his words.

T’Challa accepted it with a laugh, and with it the meeting started breaking up, some sneaking back to their quarters to change out of unfamiliar clothes into something more like themselves and others staying back to talk to T’Challa further and think on the meeting topic. A lot was happening, but it felt the beginning of a wild ride, and the Avengers were nothing if not adrenaline junkies. 

The flush of excited anticipation swept through them and they were ready to take on the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the other day, I received a little review. This to be precise, including the quote:  
> "this story takes place in a world I designed that allows for naturally occurring Mpreg"  
> Bruh trans men exist, just for future reference. Whole new world out there.
> 
> Okay so here’s the deal. It is absolutely wonderful and important that more and more people are standing up to inequalities and trying to get normally marginalized groups more recognition and inclusion. Here though is a perfect example of ‘you’re doing it wrong’ if I have ever seen one, and I’m a fucking sociology major. This review was left on the first chapter, telling me pretty blatantly that this individual didn’t read a word of the story, let alone the set up for the universe. If you think a good way of standing up for the acceptance and inclusion of a marginalized group is to attack something you don’t know anything about, to reiterate, you’re doing it wrong. 
> 
> This is particularly insulting because of my own personal situation, as there are some pretty bad assumptions being made here. I seriously doubt this person read far enough to know I’m intersexed and therefore wouldn’t realize I word things to avoid misusing that term in particular. It is also off the mark to believe I have a traditional gender, I’m androgynous, which is a type of fixed nonbinary that involves a person feeling like they are always both male and female at the same time, rather than just one or neither. I use feminine pronouns because it’s what I’m used to, but I don’t actually care which pronouns are used as long as you are being polite about it. The key part to my summary is not the ‘naturally occurring mpreg’ but the fact it is a world completely different than our own, that I created this type of human. I never said the real world didn’t allow for it, only that my world did as a rule, because so many stories involve human experimentation or other medical torture to impregnate a cis male character I wanted to make it clear that wasn’t the case here.
> 
> Also, I disagree with the idea that making a trans character pregnant is the better way in this situation. There’s a funny thing about me aside from my own gender/physical identity, I was an officer in my college’s LGBTQIA+ club. I have actually sat down and discussed the repercussions of having biological children with people who were both at the beginning and nearing the end of their transitions. If I wanted to do accurate justice to writing a pregnancy with a female to male transgender character, there is no way in hell I could do it without dealing with massive dysphoria issues. Particularly in this situation where it is essentially a forced pregnancy that Steve decided to keep and love anyway. In the context of the story I side-step dysphoria issues by making it a blanket change to the species, if I had kept the rest of the world the same as the MCU verse and only made Steve intersexed he would be just as prone to dysphoria as a trans person would be. I can’t bring myself to write that in the same way I couldn’t use a real world intersexed condition, it’s for the sake of my own mental health.
> 
> Want to know why? One of the hardest things I’ve had to come to terms with is that I physically can’t have children. Could I have used a real type of intersex condition that does allows for reproduction? Yes, I could have, because there are several types perfectly capable of it, but that is almost physically painful for me to write. I wanted to have children ever since I was a child myself basically, and while I fully plan to foster or adopt when I’m physically and financially stable, the idea that I can’t have my own is a very painful thing for me. I can only give my characters the thing I always wanted in this story precisely because it would normally be impossible FOR THIS CHARACTER. By making this a completely fictional process I avoid thinking about my own circumstances. Kinda like giving a character magic or wings and letting yourself experience it through them. On top of all that so far in my journey to reaffirming my identity I have been relatively lucky when it comes to dysphoria, and I’m not ready to confront the potential for causing it over a story I write as therapy, seems counter-productive. 
> 
> So to the original person who left the review: Congratulations, you just told an author to torture themselves because you misunderstood a sentence.


	15. The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and T'Challa blow off a little steam and the Soldier finds a missing part of himself in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for any weird typos in this chapter. I am at the school library with a borrowed computer and the space bar is not working well. I’ll do my best to catch the issues, but my editing is subpar at best. I do try, but I really suck at it.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Fifteen  
The Little Things

There was an itching under the Soldier’s skin. An annoyance that just wouldn’t subside, though he attempted distraction in the form of Steve and frequent trips to the gym, it just wasn’t enough. The itching was constantly there, except when Prince T’Challa was in the room, then the itching rose to a nearly burning intensity. It didn’t change at all even when T’Challa was recognized as an official member of the team and therefore not a threat to them.

The Soldier couldn’t seem to help it, the prince set off every instinct in his body that screamed at him to fight and defend. It wasn’t anything the prince did personally, T’Challa conducted himself with graceful ease and never seemed to get ruffled even during the stressful preparations to split the Avenger’s base into separate facilities. No, this problem was the Soldier’s own, recognizing a warrior and wanting to test his limits. 

In his confusion he finally confessed the strange feeling to Steve two weeks after the prince arrived and he felt like the itching might just be driving him insane. 

He found the other Super Soldier during a moment of forced relaxation in the penthouse, they had a deal that Steve could spend his time in the gym only so long as he gave himself the same amount of time doing nothing but lounging around with a sketchbook or catching up on pop culture. He was allowed to work out, it was actually healthier for him to keep active, but none of them were sure when his limits might be too far for the baby to handle, thus forcing him to rest. 

Steve and the others were by now fairly used to the Soldier’s perfectly silent appearances, he moved like a stalking predator no matter how big his body was, so him seemingly popping up out of nowhere didn’t startle Steve as much as get his attention, especially when he noticed the darkened expression on the Soldier’s face. “Hey, what’s got you all worked up Buck?” He questioned while sitting up straighter and listening intently.

The Soldier's expression darkened even further, but he did his best to verbalize the problem. Finding words had been getting a bit easier thanks to patient encouragement but he still had moments where every syllable was a struggle, this was apparently one of those times. “I’m not really sure,” He admitted first. “I just feel odd, almost like right before a fight, except it doesn’t go away.” The explanation wasn’t nearly adequate to describe the constant itch, but it was a place to start. 

Steve mulled it over, before realizing something, “You said it doesn’t get better, but does anything seem to make it worse?” 

“The Prince,” The Soldier was relieved that Steve was able to pick up on the things he found it most difficult to say without prompting. “Whenever I’m in the room with him it feels like I could crawl right out of my skin.” 

Dark blonde eyebrows furrowed, “Are you afraid of T’Challa? Or more like excited?” Steve attempted to prompt. 

“I don’t think it’s fear,” The Soldier analyzed, eyes fixed on the floor with an annoyed scowl on his face, he remembered when this talking thing was as easy as breathing, the lack of that ability frustrated him. “Fear’s different, that makes me want to run, and this isn’t like that. If anything, I can feel myself starting to square off with him, like a pissed off tomcat. Puffed out fur and everything.” 

That left Steve desperately trying to smother the laughter threatening to bubble up, because the way Bucky was standing, all hunched up and sulking, made it all too easy to picture him as that angry cat. “Any particular reason it’s T’Challa making you feel like that and not the others?” He was able to ask after a moment of recovery. 

His scowl grew more prominent, but the answer was faster, “Probably because I have no fucking clue what he’s capable of. The other’s I can figure out easily enough just by watching how they train in the gym, but the Prince keeps his routine varied so much I can’t pin it down.” 

“Okay, so would seeing T’Challa actually spar someone help you out, or just make it worse?” Steve realized how serious this might be but was still finding some humor in Bucky’s responses. 

The Soldier huffed, “If I knew the answer to that I would have tried something the week he got here. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to see him fight, or a really fucking bad one.” 

Steve nodded in understanding, “And I’m guessing you haven’t talked to him about it either?”

“No, hard enough just talking to you,” The Soldier admitted. 

“Well then maybe the next step is to let him know what is going on, see if he has an opinion on how best to resolve this,” Steve realized, pulling himself off the couch in order to go do just that.

The Soldier sighed, “I hate this.” He admitted, grinding his teeth in frustration. 

“I won’t pretend to know what you’re feeling, but you know I’ll do whatever I can to help you work things out.” Steve assured, pulling him into a quick hug. “You’ve been doing so good Buck, I know you can get this figured out too, and it’s okay to take the time you need. There is no rush, I just want you to feel better when you can.” 

“I do,” The Soldier responded softly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple before elaborating, “Feel better, most of the time anyway. I think that is part of why I’m so annoyed about this damn feeling I don’t even have words for anymore.” He wasn’t lying either to reassure Steve, he felt stronger and more like himself every day. Now he wasn’t too sure what that self was or should be, but for the first time in seventy years it felt like he had a good chance of figuring it all out.

Now if only he could get that damn itch to settle down. 

Tracking down T’Challa was a lot easier with a little help from JARVIS. The Wakandan prince was in a meeting with Tony, the two discussing the logistics of the move for the hundredth time. A relayed request had the pair easily setting aside the rehashing and focusing on the resident Super Soldiers. 

With a little nod of permission and nearly desperate expression from the Soldier, Steve took the lead and filled them in on what Bucky was having an issue with. 

T’Challa was quiet in the aftermath, thinking it over, which left Tony to fill the gap with questions. “I have a weird but maybe important question Barnes. Do you feel like you need to fight T’Challa or do you need to subdue him? That’s two very different things.” 

The confused scowl was back, “Fight I think. I want to see who’s stronger, but I don’t really feel like I need to get rid of him or make him pay, just don’t like not knowing what he can do.” 

That tripped something in Steve’s memory, “Bucky, do you remember when you used to be a boxer? You fought in both official and underground tournaments. Maybe this is a shadow of that? The need to fight, to see who’s better.” 

The Soldier rubbed at his temples, the growing headache a by now familiar side effect of unlocking something Hydra managed to bury. He hated it as much as he liked getting something of himself back, it was just aggravating to realize the sheer scale of what those bastards had succeeded in taking from him for so long. 

“I think maybe?” He spoke like he was unsure, but at the same time he grew more confidant as the memory got clearer, the itch lining up with the thrill of adrenaline right before stepping into a ring. “More like probably I guess.” 

“Were you any good at it?” Tony asked curiously. 

Steve could have answered for him, but he refrained, giving Bucky time to get his thoughts sorted out. He appreciated the restraint because he enjoyed the feeling of putting the pieces together himself. “Yes, had a little punk that liked to stir up trouble to protect, so yeah I won most of the time.” 

“That would have been interesting to see, you fighting at your prime,” Tony confessed, mind racing with the need to picture pre-war Bucky as a boxing champ. 

“It was always a good time,” Steve agreed. “Fight nights were the highlight of the week, we got out of the apartment and I got to see him show off like the cocky jerk he was. Buck was known for taking down the biggest guys with a smile on his face, well more of smirk, but still he laughed while he fought most of the time. Sometimes the guy he was fighting would get drawn into it too, if they weren’t banged up too bad anyway.” 

“Don’t act like you were never in the ring,” The Soldier pointed out. “You’d give it a shot if the opponent was worth it.” 

“I mean is it really a surprise?” Steve admitted sheepishly. “I had far too much fight in me back then, couldn’t keep up with it most of the time, but by god I’d try.”

“Just about gave your Ma ulcers doing it too.” Bucky quipped, and right now both Steve and Tony found it impossible not to see at least the shadow of Bucky in the Soldier. 

“She loved you though, you teaching me how to throw a real punch is probably the only reason I survived long enough to get the serum at all.” Steve reminded with a saddened smile, the kind he only got when remembering the good times in the past, knowing they could never go back there made those good memories horribly bittersweet. 

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Yeah sure, except she boxed my ears good and hard when she realized what you and I snuck off to do every weekend. Seemed to think it was my fault you were a tiny ball of fury.” 

Steve shrugged helplessly, “I tried to tell her it wasn’t you, that you tried to stop me most of the time but gave up and said if I was gonna pick fights you were going to make damn sure I had a chance to win them.”

“Fair, I suppose I wasn’t the only one with ringing ears that day.” Bucky admitted, pulling an all too innocent smile out of Steve, mischief twinkling in his eyes. 

Tony and T’Challa had just been sitting back and enjoying this nostalgic trip down memory lane, only commenting when it looked like Steve and the Bucky had finished. “Always figured Steve was the troublemaker, nice to know I was right.” Tony revealed. 

“Of course I was, it was Bucky fishing me out of the trouble not pushing me into it,” Steve responded easily, not ashamed of it in the slightest. “I honestly have no idea why history makes me into some sort of saint. I mean I broke the law even trying to get into the army in the first place, and then when I finally succeeded I went against direct orders in my very first real mission as Captain America. I thought I’d be court marshalled and relegated to a lab somewhere, it was only Colonel Philips making a different call that saved me from being nothing more than a lab rat.” 

“It only took them about five minutes to figure out you didn’t give a damn about regulations,” Bucky added.

“That’s not completely true -with the exception of trying to enlist under aliases- I followed the rules, right up until they wanted to leave you to die in that hellhole. My allegiance is to people and protecting them, most of the time the rules help me do that, but if they don’t I will choose people over rules every time.” That was both a statement and warning as he gave a little nod of acknowledgment to T’Challa. 

“An understandable stance,” The Prince acknowledged, “Though I do hope my father and I can successfully keep you from needing to make such a choice between rules and protection again.” 

“It’s not something I like doing, or even want to, so yeah I hope we can manage that too,” Steve agreed.

“Sounds to me like maybe we should get back to why the two of you came here in the first place,” Tony reminded. “T’Challa, what are your thoughts on this?” 

“I think if all Barnes needs is a fight than I have little reason not to give him one,” He seemed nonchalant about it, but there was a shimmer of competitive fire that lit up his eyes. 

“What do you think Buck, worth a try?” Steve facilitated, looking hopeful as he caught a little smirk on the Soldier’s face. 

“I think it’s way better than doing nothing, I feel like I could claw out of my skin,” He admitted, before taking in the long and leanly muscled prince, “Any restrictions you think we should have, say them now. Steve can make them an order if necessary, but you have my word I will respect anything you say to the best of my ability.” He promised. 

“If I am understanding your circumstances correctly I believe fail-safes have been included already to keep your sparring partners safe, I trust those are sufficient for what we intend. However, this is less of a demand and more a suggestion, I think we should leave all weapons out of this and use our bodies only.” He proposed. 

That both sounded good and impossible for the Soldier, “I have no way of completely removing all weapons, my arm is the deadliest thing about me.” He pointed out. 

“I am aware of this, and I’m willing to take the risk of sparring you regardless. To me that is not a weapon but a part of you, so I expect its use.” T’Challa explained smoothly. “To say you couldn’t use it, or to refuse to fight because it is there, would be extremely rude.” 

“I don’t want to insult you, but I have to ask if you really know what you’re asking for? I mean have you seen me use it?” Bucky didn’t want to take the risk of hurting T’Challa because the prince underestimated the risk he would be up against. 

T’Challa nodded solemnly, “I watched news footage of your highway fight with Captain Rogers before you regained yourself, and security tapes from the base you two were able to successfully overrun. I believe I have a fair idea of your abilities. I do not fear them, but I do have a great deal of respect for them and you.” 

“That’s enough then, I just don’t want to hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” Bucky admitted.

T’Challa gave a rich laugh, “While I appreciate the sentiment, there is one thing you are forgetting to consider.” The Soldier just tilted his head while raising a questioning eyebrow and waited for T’Challa to answer his own baiting statement. “You would need to defeat me to have a worry of hurting me.” The grin that bloomed across his face was filled with the same warmth as his laugh, but his tone was laced with teasing challenge. 

That was more than enough to set the itching under Bucky’s skin to burning again, and he returned the grin with a nearly feral smile, “When do you want to do this?” 

“Give me time to change and get to the gym,” Steve could have sworn the prince was just as eager as Bucky, when a single nod from the Soldier was enough to send T’Challa off to his room to change. 

“Well Buck, looks like you’re gonna get some entertainment today after all, now you should get down there before he beats you to it,” He encouraged, Bucky racing off on silent feet in response.

Tony and Steve were left alone in the room with relieved grins. “Thanks Tony, sorry for interrupting, but I could tell this has really been bugging him.” Steve thanked, going in for a hug and grateful kiss.

After they broke apart Tony had an easy smile on his face, “It was really no big deal, T’Challa and I weren’t talking about anything that couldn’t wait, but now I don’t know about you but I’m not missing this.” 

“If you really think I would be anywhere but watching them I am seriously worried for your sanity,” Steve managed to state solemnly, like he was diagnosing a fatal disease, only to break form and laugh at the affronted look on Tony’s face. 

“Ha ha, let’s just go see what all this hype is about, unlike you I’ve never really seen Barnes fight just to fight.” Tony hurried them both out of the room and towards the gym. 

Steve let himself get dragged along, but couldn’t help getting the last word in, “You won’t regret it.”

By the time the two of them made it to the gym, both sparring partners were already there showing just how excited they were for this, Steve suspected a certain amount of curiosity and anticipation had to have come from T’Challa purely on his own. No way could he be this eager if today was the first time he thought about sparring the infamous assassin.

“Tony, what do you think the odds are here, realistically?” Steve inquired, Tony being the only one even vaguely aware of T’Challa’s real strength. 

“Oh, are you a betting man today?” Tony teased, earning a roll of Steve’s eyes and a carefully controlled elbow to the side, Steve always nervous his playful gestures could hurt someone if he didn’t keep himself in check. It was a problem he had to balance between his need for physical touch and the very real risk of injury thanks to his enhanced strength. 

“Why bet a billionaire when he has all the advantage?” Steve countered, “You know too much that I don’t about T’Challa to make any kind of bet fair.”

“Well you know Barnes the best, so I’d say we are about equal on the idea of knowing things the other doesn’t.” Tony pointed out, satisfied smirk on his face from the easy teasing. “But really, I have no idea how this will play out. I think a good part of it will come down to how serious either of them take it.” He analyzed. 

“The way Buck is all worked up, I’m guessing pretty serious.” Steve predicted. 

“T’Challa is good for a fight, seriously, he’s been waiting for this but didn’t want to push Barnes further than he was able to handle yet.” Tony admitted. 

“Are we ever going to get the full story about how you know all this about him?” Steve mused, not for the first time. 

Tony smirked in response, “Someday.” He earned that Captain America eye roll and was proud of it. 

They were drawn out of their debate when the sparring pair finished stretching out and stood in the center of the gym facing each other and readying themselves for a fight. The Avengers gym was far more than weights and treadmills, no it was a high-tech obstacle course that could be set to different difficulty levels and range specialties. Right now, the room was overall set for close quarters guerrilla tactics, with the room looking like a giant jungle gym of bars, platforms, and blind corners to ambush an opponent from. 

Tony and Steve were watching from a viewing platform built into the back wall, giving them a relatively high and clear vantage point to evaluate the fight.

Bucky and T’Challa were circling each other now, looking for weak points in the other’s guard and waiting for a good chance to strike. It was the prince that broke the stalemate, rushing the Soldier and slipping under his raised guard to kick out at his right knee, dodging the arm aimed at clotheslining him, but the Soldier twisted away from the blow smoothly. He fainted with a left hook, T’Challa swerving away from it and into an uppercut from the Soldier’s flesh arm. He was able to predict and dodge the secondary blow but not the headlock he was pulled into after. 

T’Challa used the Soldier’s body wait to toss him over his shoulder, bringing his foot down towards the Soldier’s stomach. Bucky rolled, the strike glancing off his ribs, while he kicked out at T’Challa’s feet trying to throw him off balance. T’Challa sprung back and grabbed onto a bar flinging himself up and out of the immediate fight, Bucky following his trail to the upper level of the gym’s obstacle course. 

“It’s like they are playing cat and mouse, but I have no idea which one is the cat,” Steve observed as the two chased each other up, over, and around obstacles. 

T’Challa managed to land from above onto Bucky’s shoulders, pulling the man’s head back and down towards the ground, swinging himself up with the momentum of holding onto 200 pounds of Super Soldier and going for a pin against one of the platforms, Bucky tossing him off with a grunt of effort, T’Challa nimbly realigning his body and grabbing onto a nearby rail to swing himself away from Bucky’s dangerous fists. The Soldier stayed on the regrouping prince, grabbing a hold of him by the waist and flinging him towards the ground, which was a good tweleve foot drop from their current platform.

T’Challa landed on his feet, but the distance was enough to stun his breath for a moment, which was all the time Bucky needed to drop down and engage him face to face. Throwing punches that made T’Challa duck and swerve around him, trying to find an opening, darting in at a miniscule hesitation and driving a knee into the Soldier’s gut.

All the air rushed out of Bucky’s lungs, but he was used to limited breath from his tight tactical gear and lunged forward in a tackle that brought the prince down, T’Challa caught up in a moment of underestimation he was far too smart to repeat. 

The Soldier was noticeably stronger then the prince, T’Challa fenced in by metal and flesh, but he was much more limber and acrobatic than Bucky. He twisted and lunged away from the confining arms, never staying still, and his body was nearly fluid and almost supernaturally flexible as he slipped out of Bucky’s hold almost growling with effort. 

Both of them were breathing hard by now, and looking for any way of getting the advantage over the other. There was a cut on T’Challa’s cheek from a connected punch, and Bucky was breathing in carefully controlled pants trying to regain the precious oxygen lost from T’Challa’s solid hit to his gut. 

They rushed each other again, Bucky just managed to get his hands onto the tricky prince and manhandled him over his shoulder and attempting to slam him onto the matted floor. T’Challa rolled with the momentum so he came up swinging from the ground, barely fazed from the drop. 

They wrestled back and forth, a competition between strength and speed, more wounds appearing here and there, but all within the Soldier’s orders. He could injure T’Challa only so long as it was an accident in a spar, as long as he didn’t trigger anything and go for the prince’s throat deliberately they were free to beat on each other as much as they wanted.

The freedom felt unbelievably good to his system that had been caged for so long, then keyed up just from proximity with the Wakandan royal. It just felt right to sink into familiar motions of a spar, the added difficulty of the obstacle case a welcome and thrilling change from the flat out brawls in a boxing ring. 

T’Challa on his part was enjoying this just as much. He had been keeping himself carefully reigned in so that he could let his new team get comfortable with him. Now with a direct challenge he could show what he could do. The Soldier with his mechanical arm was a thrilling opponent, the technology interesting and he couldn’t help but compare it to his own suit’s capabilities. Both advantages and weaknesses could be seen, its strength and durability immediately apparent but the lack of versatility was limiting. Bucky had to continuously control what had to be a metabolic black hole, the very thing giving him an advantage over other trained fighters was also draining him dry of energy and calories. Even body heat was affected, the Soldier’s skin perpetually cool except when forced to exert himself beyond normal capacity, such as this very spar. 

Even though he was panting with the strain he still did not break a sweat, his internal temperature only really rising to the level of a normal man. All Tony and Steve had to do was look at the opponents to realize this issue, considering T’Challa’s skin and clothing had gathered up sweat making him glisten under the lights of the gym while the Soldier was bone dry.

“I wonder if Barnes had calmed down enough to let me have a look at his arm, I might be able to tweak it so it doesn’t pull as much from his own body.” Tony wondered, Steve so invested in the spar to respond for a few moments.

He shrugged, “You could ask him, I’m not going to make those choices for him. He’s doing better but the shape he was in when he came to me with this says he’s still got some sore spots. Not that it’s surprising.” 

“Not at all, personally anything more than sitting in a corner rocking back and forth is a good sign of progress. It’s easy to guess asking him to submit to testing would be a particularly sticky situation. We can only imagine what’s been done to him in our worst nightmares.” Tony added onto Steve’s observation. 

“I hate those nights,” Steve muttered, before returning the majority of his attention back on the fight, Bucky having pinned T’Challa down again, the prince fighting like a pissed off badger to get out of the hold. “Is there any point we should consider stepping in and stopping this?” Steve was biased and he knew it, so always good to get a second opinion. 

“They’ll call it when they’re ready, don’t know about you but I’m not about to get between a cat and its mouse.” Tony stated, teasing grin back. “And no, I have no idea which one is which either.” Pun aside, the two combatants were fairly evenly matched and there was no clear victor apparent yet. 

As the spar progressed it dawned on Steve what the Soldier was trying to do, and his smile grew more prominent as he realized despite taking damage with each grapple, the plan appeared to be working. 

The Soldier was backing T’Challa very slowly, skirmish by skirmish, into a section of the obstacle course that ended in a dead end, it was a small niche meant to hide one opponent from another, but for Bucky’s purposes it was a mouse trap. T’Challa managed to battle his way free from all the holds the Soldier managed on open ground, but when he found himself literally backed into a corner he had less room to move and while he put up an admirable fight he tapped out before either him or Bucky could seriously injure the other. 

They faced each other with satisfied grins, Bucky feeling accomplished, and T’Challa submitted with grace, “You are every bit as good as I thought and perhaps a bit better, I would like to repeat today’s battle again if you are of a mind to do the same.” He offered, wiping his face with a towel Tony had tossed to him, Steve and him heading towards the pair as soon as the end was spotted. 

“I think I’d like that very much, thank you for this Your Highness,” Bucky had a whole lot more respect for this man now then he did before and it wasn’t like he had none previously. 

Steve went over and draped an arm around his shoulders, “That was incredible, both of you. It took me a while to figure out what you were up to down there Buck, using the room to your advantage was a great idea.”

“How many times did I have to rescue you from blind alleys?” The Soldier reminded. “If you can’t beat your opponent one way, you find another.” 

“A fair and obviously successful plan,” T’Challa acknowledged. “You will not succeed that way again.” Playful challenge colored his tone and his dancing eyes revealed his excitement at the prospect as well. 

“I figured it was the kind of plan that would only work once, guess next time I’ll just have to get more inventive,” He matched T’Challa’s enthusiasm easily. He was surprised how good fighting just to fight felt to him, for so long he was a weapon without free will, but with his body his own again he could push himself to his limits without regrets. 

It felt good to be human again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still working on writing sparring well, I’m better than I used to be but I’m aware that it’s a weakness in my writing. Any constructive feedback readers have would be appreciated so I can improve the content of my stories. 
> 
> Also quick tagging question, should I add a language warning to this story? I write like I talk and my family is pure Appalachian blue collar culture, that plus six years of heavy factory work before college means I swear like a particularly angry sailor which in turn means my characters do too. To me it’s normal to have people cussing up a storm and a little odd when someone doesn’t. I’m still not entirely sure what things do and do not deserve a story tag as opposed to a content warning within author’s notes.


	16. Young

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally I got the kids in here, Clint's children and Peter get their first appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got my Russian diminutives from a language website rather than Google translate, I thought that would be a tad more reliable, but if I still messed it up feel free to tell me and I’ll fix it. 
> 
> Also this is more like part one of a full chapter, but it was taking forever to write and I finally felt it was long enough to post. The kid’s introduction to the Avengers will continue on to Chapter Seventeen which I hope to have out a little quicker than I managed with this one, but life truly does get in the way sometimes.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Sixteen  
Young

It took a solid month from the point of T'Challa's arrival for the Avengers to complete the split up of their living and training arrangements. The new base in upstate New York was spacious and modern, not to mention much easier to lock down. While the tower had to be accessible for the many employees occupying the lower floors, this base was only the team itself and those closely associated with it. True to Tony’s word from before there was even a division between the quarters set up for established members and those for trial team mates, connected by the gym and large security doors. 

The new base had a well-equipped training gym in it just like the tower but was more for playing around with a new or dangerous skill; they all agreed official Avengers practice would happen in the city. 

With the move finished and team settled in, it was finally safe for Clint to go retrieve his children. This process took a few days with the necessity of relocating Laura at the same time with last minute packing thrown in. To help facilitate things Natasha had gone with Clint so he could get the kids ready while she helped Laura get to the newest safehouse in the Midwest.

Now they had made it back. Clint’s son was wide eyed, staring with a mix of awe and terror as he attached himself to Clint’s right side and wouldn’t let go. Cooper looked almost like a mini-Clint all sandy blonde and piercing grey eyes, and the sight of him clinging to the archer was making the team smile. His daughter Bobbi stood a pace ahead of him, looking around with all the grace of someone trying -and failing- to hide their excitement. She was built like a dancer, all long and lean, with two brunette pig tails running down her shoulders in thick braids, and her eyes were rich brown. 

Everyone was gathered in the communal living room, the Soldier staying as far out of the way as possible in case they found him frightening. 

The sudden squeal of delight from the young teen had him jumping slightly, but he slowly relaxed when the girl raced over and attached herself to Natasha like a limpet. His Spiderling laughed and put an arm around her, “You saw me three days ago Kotyonok, did you really miss me that much?” Next to Nat and her Russian skin, Bobbi’s darker complexion was more obvious. 

“But Aunt Nat, we get to live together now, isn’t that cool?” She argued enthusiastically. Bobbi had certainly picked up some of Clint’s hyperness that was for sure. 

Natasha nodded with a small smile, wrapping a hand around the back of her head and bringing her close to kiss her forehead, “I’m glad I will get to see you and your brother more often, you two are growing like bad weeds.” The comment made Bobbi roll her eyes but considering her widened grin she wasn’t taking it too hard. 

Clint’s voice interrupted their little reunion, “Okay, well as you can see the barnacle currently clinging to Nat is my daughter Bobbi, and this little guy is my son Cooper.” He patted his son’s sandy blonde hair, ruffling it up and receiving an indignant squawk for his efforts. The boy came up to his waist and was glaring harshly at his mother for the offense. 

“You make pretty cute kids Hawkguy, I’ll admit I’m impressed.” Tony observed, making Bobbi giggle from the safety of Natasha’s side. 

“Yeah, I still wonder where that came from,” Pietro laughed, drawing Cooper’s attention to himself, and the little boy launched himself like a rocket towards him. He slammed into Pietro so hard the speedster let out a pained grunt but laughed and ruffled his hair as soon as he got his breath back. “I missed you too.” Pietro admitted, not bothering to hide his smile. 

“Oh yeah, fair warning that Cooper takes a bit to warm up to new people but is prone to ambushing the people he likes.” Clint revealed a bit too late for Pietro’s sake. “Bobbi over there, she’s a ham, no other way of saying it.”

“How does liking people make me a ham?” Bobbi protested.

“Hate to say it kid, but you’re a bit, how do I put this… enthusiastic around people.” Clint responded slowly. “The right question here is not what makes you a ham, its whether or not that’s a bad thing and I certainly don’t think so.”

“Better not, or you’d have to explain hypocrisy to her already,” Natasha pointed out with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. 

“Very funny, now how about the rest of you introduce yourselves to them. I’m not doing it for you.” Clint reminded. 

“It’s not like I don’t know the Avengers,” Bobbi objected, looking around starry eyed. “That’s Iron Man, and Captain America, Falcon’s next to War Machine…” She started to list but was interrupted with Sam’s quiet chuckle.

“Easy kid, we’re off duty.” He reminded.

“I’m sorry, this is just really cool. I’ve been hearing stories about all of you guys for what feels like forever.” Bobbi apologized before spying Bucky and T’Challa standing apart from the others. “I take it back, those two are new.” She corrected. 

T’Challa took her notice in stride, “I’m Prince T’Challa, a foreign diplomat that will be shadowing this team for the foreseeable future.” 

“Oh cool! Where are you from?” She had been sheltered her whole life, anything different was still exciting for her. Meeting Pietro and Wanda for the first time had been mind-blowing enough. 

“Wakanda, a small country in Africa,” T’Challa responded patiently, his gracefulness never more apparent then when he spoke to a child. 

Bobbi lit up with enthusiasm, “Could you tell me about it?” 

“Another time perhaps,” T’Challa redirected, “There are still introductions to be made.” 

While Bobbi had been questioning T’Challa, Cooper had been creeping away from Pietro, going slowly to try and avoid attention but he wasn’t the best at stealth and was more cute than quiet as he approached his target. Clint actually covered his mouth to stifle his laughter when his son stopped and just stared straight at Steve, eyes filled with wonder. “I was you for Halloween,” Cooper informed seriously, voice soft and hesitant with all the shyness his sister did not have. 

Steve did his best not to laugh at the boy, but could not stop his grin, “Oh really? Why not go as Hawkeye?”

Cooper’s face scrunched up in distaste, “He’s my mom, no one goes as their mom for Halloween.” 

Clint cleared his throat, “Well actually, I may or may not have used a Hawkeye costume for your first year. Wasn’t like you had much of an opinion then.” 

The look of distaste morphed into sheer betrayal, little hands flying in sign language, his default when nerves kept him from talking. 

Clint interrupted him, “Kiddo, try and use your voice. I know its hard and scary, but worth it so people can understand you.” 

“It’s okay Clint,” Steve assured, before dropping to his knees in front of the young boy, hands moving at a slower pace as he tried to form signs for the first time in years. The look of delight on Cooper’s face was well worth the effort of remembering. 

Clint waited just long enough for Steve to get Cooper calmed down before questions started spilling out, “Where did you learn sign? I had no idea you knew it.” 

“I was sick all the time when I was young, got ear infections a lot and couldn’t always afford the medicine quick enough. I was practically deaf on my left side and pretty hard of hearing on the right. My pastor at church gave me a book on sign language to help me cope. I know my signs are old so I wasn’t sure how well I’d be understood.” They were all aware that Steve before the serum had been riddled with illnesses, they hadn’t known some of the effects of that.

“It’s a little old yeah, but not what I’d expect from someone learning it in the 30s and 40s, have you been practicing?” Clint wasn’t letting this one go, signing was something near and dear to his heart. 

“I didn’t practice, but I picked up what I could watching others. My memory helps a lot with visual things like that. It’s in your file so I wanted to be prepared if I needed to use it.” Steve admitted. Clint was never particularly outspoken about his deafness, but it was there in the files for his teammates to see if they wanted. As Clint put it telling your enemies your weak point was a great way of dying so he kept it relatively hidden, covering for most problematic situations with lip reading and hyper awareness of body language. 

“If you feel like updating your signs, the kids and I can help you.” Clint offered. “I lost my hearing in an accident, so the kids both have full hearing, but they’ve been learning signs since before they could speak. It’s actually their first language.” 

“I’d like that,” Steve agreed, expression soft as he spoke with Cooper.

Bucky surprised even himself by commenting then, “Never thought of that, Steve think those signs could help me when words start fighting?” 

Clint answered instead of Steve, “It works for Cooper.” 

“I learned with Steve, but that was a long time ago.” Bucky admitted. “Figures Hydra wouldn’t program something like that into me.” 

“We’ll get you back up to speed soon enough,” Clint promised.

He might have said more, but Bobbi broke in, “What’s your name? I haven’t heard anything about you before.”

“You have,” Natasha intercepted when she saw the Soldier tensed up at being questioned directly, not sure how to answer. “He’s family, I told you about Soldat didn’t I?”

Bobbi’s expression was openly pleased and excited, something that greatly confused the watching Soldier. “Your mother?” At Natasha’s confirming nod Bobbi wheeled around to face Bucky fully. “Aunt Nat’s been looking for you forever, I didn’t think I’d actually get to meet you, so I'm really glad you finally got here.” 

"I don't think I'm much to meet, but I'm glad I'm here too." He responded simply, the unspoken 'instead of with Hydra' went over her head but the others all caught it. 

"Don't say that, like Aunt Nat said, you're family. What happened to you?" Her curiosity appeared endless.

The question itself made him want to wince, "That is a very long and really not happy story." He warned. 

"So was Mom's, and I listened to his," Bobbi pressed. 

Clint cut in again, "Bobbi, give him some space, if he chooses to tell you that's fine but don't keep badgering him about it if he doesn't."

"I don't mind the questions," Bucky refuted quietly, "I'm just not sure I should answer that one. I don't want to scare your kids." 

Clint went quiet, considering the point for a moment, "She isn't really wrong though. I've told them about me before, it's not a pretty story either. It's okay with me if you talk to them about your history, but only if you want to and try to keep in mind they are just kids. They might not understand some of it." 

Bobbi pumped her fist triumphantly at the permission from her mother but kept quiet. Aware enough to know she shouldn't risk antagonizing Clint into taking it back.

There was a lull then, no one quite sure where to go from there until Tony broke out, "Alright, as long as everything is fine here Wanda and I have some spider catching to do." 

"Go for it," Rhodey encouraged, "The place isn't going to burn down without you for a few hours." 

Tony scoffed, "I really wouldn't put it passed this crazy bunch of idiots." 

"Ah Tony," Steve began cautiously, "Don't know how to tell you this, but you kind of make things go boom on a more regular basis than the rest of us. Granted I think most of the time it's intentional, but still." 

"This coming from the man who uses the 'keep punching it until it stops' method of fighting." Tony shot back playfully. The man was a tactical genius, but there was no denying he was a brawler by nature.

Steve rolled his eyes, "It's worked for me so far." 

"Okay you two, flirt later," Rhodey interrupted, "You want to go pick up the kid right? Well get on with it." 

"Fine, fine," Tony brushed off, turning to see Wanda already waiting by the elevator. "Let's go Glinda." 

"I was not the one that got distracted," She refuted while stepping into the elevator with Tony. 

They were playing this relatively lowkey by Tony's standards, taking his sleek silver Audi into the city rather than the jet. Took a bit longer but they didn't feel like being followed incessantly while trying to track down a teenaged arachnid. 

"What is the plan for finding him?" Wanda hadn't asked before because she figured if it was something too terribly complicated Tony would have already warned her. 

"I've been tracking his patrols," Tony admitted, "He's surprisingly good at not following the same path twice but there are a few locations he never passes up checking on. Plan A is to intercept him there because I think he'd be more willing to talk to us if he's not worried about us tattling on him, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Plan B is to wait and just knock on the front door. I have an alibi in mind but rather not use it right away, don't want to give his Aunt reason to hate us later on if she finds out we lied to her." 

"So, let me get this straight, you want to intercept an enhanced overly perky teenaged superhero in the middle of New York City? And not draw attention?" Tony could feel her incredulous stare boring into him from the passenger seat. 

He just had to laugh a bit with the accusation, "This is New York, the city that no one ever looks up or interferes, unless we went out in full regalia people aren't going to notice shit. Even if they did it's none of their business, I'm certainly not going to talk to the kid in a place easily overheard, but just making contact shouldn't be a problem." 

Her look of disgust at such blatant dismissal of the crowds was enough to have him chuckle again, "This blows up in our face, I'll be telling the other spider in our midst." She warned but let the matter drop for now. 

It wasn't often someone used Natasha as a threat, but well, Tony had seen enough to know challenging that statement would not end well for him. 

She completely ignored Tony's smug smirk when it didn't take an hour to track Spider-Man down, the teenager lounging on a fire escape watching the street for trouble. His costume was a confusing mix of high tech and cheap cloth, the majority of it looking like a hoodie and sweat pants, but the twin gadgets on his wrists and the weird goggles made him look more like a B movie alien than a spider.

"Okay kid, first thing's first, you need an upgrade," Tony called up, shaking his head mock incredulously. 

"Holy shit, you're Tony Stark!" Peter realized easily before dropping down to land in a graceful crouch then straightening up in front of the billionaire. "What does Iron Man want with little old me?" 

"Nice moves Spidey, and at the moment we just want to talk." He responded with a gesture towards Wanda hovering behind his shoulder. 

They couldn't actually see his eyes widening with those dark goggles on, so they went off his tone of voice, which had kicked up a register at spotting her, "Oh wow you're pretty," He seemed to catch himself judging from the surprised tone, "I mean oh look its Scarlett Witch."

"Kid that was in no way smooth, need to up your game a bit before you truly attempt such a mission. Floundering does not look cool on anyone." Tony pointed out with a teasing grin. Ah to be a fifteen year old dork again. 

The teen puffed up in embarrassed indignation, “I wasn’t trying anything!”

“That’s enough, both of you.” Wanda took pity on the younger teen and interjected so they’d both shut up about it already. “We’re here for a reason, remember?” She attempted to get Tony back on track. 

“Right.” Tony agreed, grin falling away to fix the potential recruit with a piercing stare, Peter squirming a bit under the scrutiny. “Here’s the deal. We have an offer for you but talking about it here is not the best of ideas, is that fire escape sturdy enough to get us to the roof?” He gestured to the small platform they’d first seen Spider-Man on. Just ordering him to get in the car with them would be several levels of wrong, most prominently the legitimate claim of kidnapping, so somewhere outdoors would have to do. 

“Haven’t tried the whole way up, it should be fine though, this area is pretty good about following building codes.” Peter leaped at the chance to prove he was more than an awkward fanboy. 

“You investigate that kind of thing?” Tony was suitably impressed that a kid with his apparent physical prowess would think of looking into things like that. 

He shrugged, “I promised to protect people wherever I can, and getting around the city is a lot easier if I know where not to land.” 

“Fair, not a bad strategy,” Tony agreed, glad for his casual clothing as he pulled himself up onto the metal staircase, though in reality it was little more than a series of ladders. 

It didn’t take any of them long to climb to the roof, with the sheer amount of time the Avengers spent in the gym both in their gear and out even Tony was substantially stronger and had more endurance than an average man despite his primary fighting method being a weaponized suit of armor. 

“Welcome to Casa de Spidey, what can I do for you today?” Peter was doing a decent job of bringing himself under control but to someone who lived with superspies he was not difficult to read in the slightest. 

“Like I said, we have an offer for you.” Tony reminded. “You’ve done well enough on your own that you’ve caught attention in some pretty high places kid. I think it may be in your best interest to hear us out before someone else gets to you and doesn’t give you the right to a choice.” 

“I’m not a kid, and I won’t agree to anything without knowing what the offer is exactly.” Peter refuted, remembering to deepen his voice and stand up straighter to make him look not so tiny. 

Wanda shook her head slowly, “You are correct to be suspicious, but you can’t really be serious in thinking you have many people fooled. Your act needs to be smoother before it will pass as reality.” 

Peter deflated at the commentary, and his voice was back to the tone wavering between childhood highness and mature low, “Guess I shouldn’t try to pull one over a telepath.”

She actually laughed, “Silly boy, I’m not reading your mind, not now anyway. Just because one of us can do something doesn’t mean we are always doing that thing. I can tell you are young because you act young, right up to and including the desire to not be seen that way. My brother acts much like you do.” 

“So basically, we know you’re a minor Spidey, it doesn’t change what we came here to offer.” Tony added on. 

“You still haven’t told me what that is?” Peter was resigned to losing that argument, besides they weren’t wrong and arguing too much would just encourage them to dig deeper, something he very much did not want. 

“I’ve said it a couple times now, but to reiterate, you’ve caught our attention Spidey. You really have done well for yourself, except with the kind of scrutiny a suited up vigilante is going to draw you need some backup, we can give that to you. A suit that’s made out of something a little tougher than polyester blend and training for those powers you seem to have picked up along the way. That’s our offer.” Tony laid out in plain terms. 

Peter stood in stunned silence for a full minute, just processing, “Wait. Are you saying you want me to be an Avenger?!”

“Well, more like we’d like you to spend time with the team, learn from us, and get stronger. If you make it through all that, then yes it’s on the table.” Tony clarified. “Think of it like tryouts.” 

The teen was so excited he was practically vibrating, but all the same he reined himself in enough to ask, “There’s a catch isn’t there? This is way too good not to have some strings.” 

“Good instincts,” Wanda complimented, she was here to encourage him not constantly disabuse him of his notions. Just, really, did he think he was fooling anyone with that act?

“The strings are this. There is a lot of politics being flung around about the team right now, we have an established treaty with a foreign nation that we hope is going to speed things up. You will need to sign a contract with this foreign government before we can admit you onto the team officially. The offer of training and suit updates is available to you whether you sign or not, but we cannot use you in any missions unless you do. To that end this is the kind of contract where we need your guardian to sign their permission too, you are a minor and will be legally treated like one. I am aware you currently hide your identity, which is an excellent choice by the way for what you’ve been up against, and while I’m not saying we have to announce who you are to the world or anything we do need to let your guardians in on it.” Tony warned seriously. 

“I can’t tell her, she’d freak out, then I’d freak out and it would just be a mess,” Peter objected immediately. 

Tony just nodded for now, “I figured as much, and you do have some time to think it over. You do not need to sign the contract until you are officially brought onto the team. We discussed it together and even Cap thinks it’s a good idea to give you some help without requiring that of you. This is just personal advice now, I think you will be better off telling her sooner rather than later. No one likes secrets, especially the dangerous kind. She might freak out now but it will be so much worse if she finds out from a news report or ER bill.” 

He ducked his head, “I know, but my Aunt’s been through a lot lately, I just can’t add anymore to that right now.” 

Wanda spoke up again, “That’s fine to think for awhile, but you should have faith in the people around you. Putting off something uncomfortable just because it is uncomfortable will not get you anywhere. Unless you have genuine reasons for believing this may be the thing that breaks a person you shouldn’t operate like it will be.” The Twins knew exactly what it was like being pushed further than even you thought you could go, and still believed it was better to know than not. 

Peter wavered, “How long do I have to think about this?” 

“I’d like to say as long as you need,” Tony hid another wince, “But realistically we need that answer as soon as possible. Those politics I mentioned will go a lot easier if we know exactly what we are dealing with, and that kind of thing runs on a timetable no one can really predict. Could be tomorrow or next year before we get anywhere with it.” 

“Could I maybe meet the team first?” He asked very cautiously, like he was asking for something forbidden. “If it’s not a good fit then I won’t have to scare my Aunt half to death.” 

“Well that depends,” Tony began seriously, but slipped into an easy smile, “Have you eaten yet?” 

“I helped a lady who was lost, she bought me a churro for it.” Peter was both pleased with himself, and a bit embarrassed at how genuinely happy he’d been at such a simple act of repayment. 

“So what you mean to say is no, no you have not eaten.” Tony translated. “Though that is a good day right there.” 

“Should I call Pietro and tell him to warn the rest?” Wanda inquired, phone already in her hand showing she was pretty sure what the answer would be. 

“Yup,” Tony replied flippantly, “So Spidey, we would appreciate you not calling the cops and getting us arrested for kidnapping, but there’s food to be had at the compound. We’ll bring you back here before your curfew if you have one.”

“Not tonight, my Aunt’s working a double and as long as I answer my phone on her breaks I’m good to stay out.” Peter admitted. 

It was a very awkward Peter that slid into the backseat of Tony Stark’s very expensive car, with Scarlett Witch in the front seat, and since their backs were turned it was a great opportunity to have a mostly private freakout over the situation he found himself in, hopefully getting some of it out of his system before he met the rest of the Avengers. 

He was not as contained as he hoped, both older superheroes in the car glancing at him in the rearview mirror, but left him be to work through the rush of nerves. Honestly if the kid wasn’t a little overwhelmed with all this that would be the true time to worry. 

When they were a few minutes away from the compound Peter found his voice again, “Are there any rules I need to know about here?” That was a surprisingly good question coming from a nervous ball of anxiety. 

“Mostly it’s just stay calm and try not to panic,” Tony informed. “We’ve got some people on the team that are intimidating at first but I swear you’re safe there.”

“Be careful around the Soldier.” Wanda warned quietly, “He is a good man, but badly wounded. He has a shackle on his strength held by the Captain, meaning he is not capable of harming someone who is not a threat to the team. Don’t give him a chance to see you as one, basically avoid any overly aggressive movements and try not to touch anyone without their permission first. If you choose to keep that mask on you must be even more careful, it will set him on edge to not be able to read your expressions and full body language.” She had a glimpse into Bucky’s fractured mind, seeing just a hint of the beast hidden inside, and knew it was worth the warning. 

“So he has something like PTSD?” Peter broke through some of his anxiety with curiosity. It was hard to live in New York and not have seen the fallout of war or other trauma playing out. Even only being Spider-Man for a little less than a year meant he had calmed down more than one panicking homeless person triggered by horrors others couldn’t see. In those moments Peter was truly glad for his new strength and his lessons from home of passivism and compassion. 

“He does have PTSD but there’s a little more to it,” Tony corrected. “With him there’s an added danger of Winter Soldier programming that could kick in during episodes. That shackle Wanda mentioned? Barnes did that willingly, he does not want to hurt anyone, but he’s afraid he won’t be able to stop himself.” 

Peter thought it over as Tony pulled the car onto the long winding driveway to the compound, “If I take my mask off, what happens?” 

“Your face gets cold,” Tony deadpanned. “I have no intention of sharing footage with anyone else, they lost that right when Hydra infiltrated every branch of everything in the intelligence business. In the interest of full disclosure I do know your name, but the team does not. You do not have to give it until you feel comfortable, we all understand the need to protect the people around us.” There were plenty of days Tony regretted giving up his identity so easily, particularly when he was with Pepper and was putting her in danger because she wasn’t just dating Tony Stark but Iron Man too, made her double the target. 

There was no hiding how startled Peter was at hearing that, “You know who I am?”

“Do you really think I’d being a total stranger home for dinner?” Tony questioned with a raised eyebrow, now able to face the kid in the backseat after pulling into a spot in the garage. “I know who you are and what you’ve been doing, watch which alleys you change in kid. You’re good but could be better.” He warned. 

“Are you ready to meet the rest of us?” Wanda checked, door open and partway out of the car.

“I think so,” Anxiety rising again, Peter clambered out of the car with none of the grace he’d shown earlier and with slow jerky moves showing his reluctance, he took his mask off. 

“Dammit Tony, are you sure this kid isn’t twelve?” Rhodey’s voice was sudden and unexpected, him and Pietro having come down to greet the new arrivals. 

“I’m fifteen,” Peter defended, thinking there wasn’t much they could find out with age alone, and better they knew the truth than imagine something worse. 

Rhodey rubbed at his temples, “That is really not much better.” 

“But it could be worse, so let’s get this show on the road.” Tony interceded, before shooing the group towards the security doors leading to their living quarters.


	17. Let Them In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is further integrated into the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this story is officially its own unique time line. Getting ages right is horrific with how convoluted the MCU became over time and now with me completely removing or twisting events like I have it's even harder.

Perfect Illusion  
Chapter Seventeen  
Let Them In

Tony lead the little group through the compound to the communal area where the others were at. He could practically feel the nerves pouring off Peter at this point. The poor kid was at a complete loss for words surrounded by Iron Man, Scarlett Witch, Quicksilver, and War Machine. 

The last door opened onto managed chaos, the product of a room filled with so many people talking and relaxing, the team scattered in clusters around the couches and in the kitchen. 

Steve and Clint were up on the biggest couch with the kids between them, Cooper trying valiantly to stay awake but failing miserably as he leaned against Steve’s warm side blinking owlishly. Bobbi was not much better off, flopped back on the cushions listlessly watching whatever movie had been put on for background. It had been a long day of travelling and new people for them. 

Natasha and Bucky were up on the other couch, close enough to brush their shoulders together if either one needed a bit of reassurance, it was their usual arrangement with each other. 

Sam and T’Challa were at the kitchen table, a card game dealt in front of them. It hadn’t been a full week of living together in the tower before the Avengers as a whole realized poker with any kind of stakes was a bad idea, so it looked like they’d made do with rummy. Two more hands were laid face down on the table, showing where Rhodey and Pietro had been before JARVIS warned the room Tony and Wanda were back with Peter. 

“I take it there weren’t any problems in the city then?” Steve asked, catching sight of them. He would have stood to officially greet the newcomer but didn’t want to dislodge Cooper from laying against him. It had taken the boy ages to calm down enough to even consider sleeping. 

“Nope, but we did pick up another stray for the collection,” Tony admitted, squeezing Peter’s shoulder both for emphasis and to reassure the anxious vigilante. “This is Spider-Man, he’s here to test the waters around us before he makes a final decision.” 

“Good idea,” Steve approved, turning to take in Peter who was just shy of hyperventilating with the situation, “You can relax around us Son, there are no big formalities when it’s just us in our home.” He assured gently, and if he was surprised by just how young Peter was he hid it well. Then again it was Steve and Clint that Tony had originally confessed to about finding Peter. 

Bobbi snorted a laugh, “You can say that all you want, it doesn’t make it any easier to stand in a room filled with the freaking Avengers. Let him have his freak out. I did too, and my mom is Hawkeye.” She pointed out. 

“Hawkeye has a daughter?” That’s about all Peter was able to absorb in the moment. 

“Yep, and a son,” Clint answered for himself, looking at his kids with pride and love. 

Sam laughed ruefully from his spot at the table, “Keeping track of who is what to whom on the team is like trying to unravel a tumbleweed, don’t sweat it if it takes you some time to figure us all out. That’s if you choose to stick around of course.” He hadn’t missed what Tony had said about Peter being there for the evening as a test. 

"Dinner isn't here yet, so find a place and get comfortable for now," Steve advised, the team placing a large order for Happy to bring them only after Wanda contacted Pietro meant Tony's crew beat the food to them. When Steve realized Peter was frozen in place he further encouraged, "Go on, like I said, we don't really hold on ceremony when it's just us." 

Peter was still hesitant to follow the command until Pietro took matters into his own hands, dragging the other boy over and plopping the both of them down in front of the couch with Clint and Steve, where he leaned up against the archer's legs casually, leaving Peter to sort out suddenly awkward limbs in an attempt to not touch someone without permission. 

Wanda went along with her brother's idea without comment, although she chose to mirror his position with Natasha instead. Tony took a seat beside Bucky on the other side from Natasha while Rhodey went back to his spot at the kitchen table. 

Peter drew in on himself, touching neither couch nor people. Folding his body up like a pretzel to make himself take up less space, which just about everyone was able to tell was an anxiety driven move although it did show off a fair bit of his flexibility to their curious gaze. 

Luckily there was a reason Pietro had decided to drag the new vigilante over to the couch, it brought him into range for Bobbi to start an interrogation and get him talking, “So what’s your story? How long have you been doing this? What made you want to? Have you always been in New York?” 

“Whoa, slow down!” Peter exclaimed when the flood of questions came so fast he couldn’t answer one before the next showed up. 

“Not our style,” Pietro intercepted with a cocky smirk. “But really the little bird has a point, start talking, or its going to be a boring dinner if you’re too rattled to speak.” 

“I guess the easiest place to start is yes, I have always been in New York.” Peter started answering cautiously, afraid for his identity, but his natural exuberance started kicking in and his voice sped up. “I’ve been Spider-Man for almost a year. I want to help people and now I have the strength to do it, so I do.” 

Tony didn’t miss that Peter completely glossed over how this happened to him, a question even Tony didn’t have the answer to yet, but he had more patience than Bobbi or Pietro and was saving the hard stuff for when Peter didn’t look like he was two seconds from bolting. Although he had something to add, “Spidey here has been fighting crime a lot longer than that. He faced down a Hammer drone during that Stark Expo debacle.” 

Peter’s face and voice were very expressive, so his shock was immediately apparent even as the teen lit up like a light bulb, “You remember that?” It had been the defining moment in his young life and went on to shape how he processed the lessons Uncle Ben and Aunt May tried to teach him. 

“How do you think I knew to look for you?” Tony questioned. “Yes, I dug up who you were and where you’d gone after Hammer and I’s dog fight almost got you killed. I do have to hand it to you kid, I didn’t put two and two together right away when videos started hitting the internet, had to get a glimpse of your face, but once I did it was easy enough to match the photos thanks to JARVIS.” Tony’s answer did a lot to relax Peter, it made him realize the billionaire had actually been following his civilian life long before Spider-Man’s exploits, so maybe he hadn’t managed to mess up too badly and put his Aunt in danger from someone figuring out who he was that wasn’t on a team of superheroes. 

“You would have been, what, seven when that happened?” Rhodey broke in to question Peter, stalling out the teen’s rapid thoughts.

“Yeah,” Peter admitted, realizing he was dating himself to the people who didn’t already know but figured it was going to come out sooner or later. He didn’t want to be rude and not answer the question at all. 

“Well you have guts that’s no question,” Rhodey realized, “Those things were a menace to take down.”

“There are videos of you on the internet?” Bobbi was Peter’s savior from melting down into a puddle of embarrassed pride at the praise, the girl grabbing onto Tony’s minor comment. 

Peter nodded, tilting his head back to see her even if she was upside down to his view now, his easy flexibility noted once again by the gathered heroes. “Yeah, there’s stuff posted on YouTube, some of it is what I’ve shot myself and others were caught by the crowds.” 

“I’d be interested in seeing that,” Steve admitted, curious about the person that caught Tony’s attention so thoroughly. 

“I could have JARVIS pull some of it up, that’s if Spidey here doesn’t mind.” Tony offered, leaving room for the newcomer to bow out if he wanted. 

“It’s not that great, but you can watch them if you want.” Peter allowed, JARVIS taking over with the consent and the screen that had been playing a by now forgotten movie switched to shaky camera footage, obviously shot from amateur equipment, showing a busy street crossing. It was a short clip, a SUV running a red light and almost broadsiding a bus until a red and blue blur swung around and put himself between the two, the force of the car so much the hood dented where Spider-Man’s hand landed stopping it cold. 

A low whistle from Sam was the first response, “That was a great move. Just how strong are you? I mean only an idiot would miss that you’re enhanced after seeing that.” 

“I actually have no clue,” Peter confessed, “It’s not like there are a lot of ways for me to check without getting caught. I haven’t really found a limit to it yet exactly,” The last part sounded kind of bashful, like admitting it was a bad thing. 

“How long did it take you to get used to your strength, or were you born enhanced?” Steve asked astutely, the only one there -with the possible exception of Bucky- that knew what it was like to endure a rapid physiological change and had to deal with the fallout as far as he knew. Bruce was not there, or he would be just as interested Steve was sure. 

“For me the extra strength was not the hardest part to get used to, it kinda developed over time, instead I had to figure out how to stop sticking to everything I touched.” Peter corrected. “I’m not saying there weren’t some accidental property damage issues, there were and I thought I’d be grounded for life, but I couldn’t even pick up my toothbrush without it turning into a game of roulette whether I could put it down again.” 

“You stick to things?” Clint questioned, his answer coming in the form of JARVIS pulling up another clip of Spider-Man scaling the side of a building, one of the modern ones that was mostly metal and glass, and the master assassin knew it would be impossible for a non-enhanced person to do it without equipment. “Okay, so yes, yes you do stick to things.” He realized. 

“What about the webs? I can see you have something on your wrists,” Tony’s question this time, finally getting a closer look at the gadgets Peter had managed to build for himself. 

Peter unhooked the webshooter from his left wrist, leaving the one on his dominant arm because he was still nerved up, and got up to bring it over to Tony. He stayed hovering beside the engineer as his literal idol looked over his invention. Tony glancing up at him every few seconds, “Did you design this by yourself?”

“Yes, both the shooters and the web fluid, this is maybe the fourth formula I’ve field tested,” Peter informed, proud of what he had done, and it showed with his lack of hesitation in answering Tony’s questions. 

“Was this a watch?” Tony recognized the shooters as basically a pile of harvested parts carefully mounted on an old digital watch braced with metal and thicker leather for strength and durability. 

“Among other things, yes.” Okay he was living the dream right now, having his invention evaluated by Tony Stark was a memory he wouldn’t soon forget. He would have been content to listen to Tony explore his webshooters for the rest of the night.

That was until he felt a strange tingle running up the back of his neck and raising the hair on his arms, Peter instinctively turned towards the low-level threat just in time to catch a small marble smoothly thrown at him from the dark-haired man sitting between Iron Man and Black Widow. 

Peter’s principal was a Howling Commando Legacy and drove the history program at his school into heavily show casing the team’s famous contributions to the war effort. Meaning that for Peter it was only too easy to spot Bucky Barnes, then seeing the metal arm put him together with the news coverage of the fight between the Winter Soldier and Captain America in DC. He knew exactly who this was and why he’d been warned now, and it made him go pale when he realized the man had been sizing him up this whole time and he’d been too anxious to feel the warning his senses attempted to give.

On his part the Soldier had not been trying to hurt him, instead he had been quietly observing both Peter and the continued clips JARVIS played, the AI usually matching each clip to the specific topic being discussed. He’d noticed something and figured it would be easy enough to test. He kept a few marbles in his pocket to act as both worry stones and back up projectiles for taking out cameras and other surveillance equipment quieter than a bullet. He’d taken one slowly into his hand, glancing at Steve for permission while the boy was distracted with Tony’s questions and he got a small nod from the curious Super Solider. Steve picked up on the anomaly as easily as Bucky had and was still hyper aware of every move the Solider made, spotting him retrieving the marble and figuring out Bucky’s intentions easily. 

It was only with Steve’s consent that the Soldier had flicked the marble at the boy, not hard enough to really damage him, but he would definitely feel it if it hit. Only it didn’t, even distracted the boy had still been able to react quick enough to catch the projectile, confirming Bucky and Steve’s suspicions. “Strength and adhesiveness are not your only enhancements.” He noted calmly, even as the boy was both terrified and in awe as he looked between the marble and Bucky. 

“How did you know!?” The boy was leaning towards panic at having his trump card discovered. 

“I guessed,” The Soldier informed, staying calm and relaxed hoping it might let the kid breathe a bit. “Some of that footage showed you blocking or catching things you would not normally be able to see coming. I wanted to check for myself, and that would not have hurt you even if I was wrong.” 

“Barnes, our goal is to make him want to stay not scare him away,” Tony warned, resisting the childish urge to elbow him, he was on Bucky’s left and would hurt himself far more than the Soldier if he tried. 

“Look at him, this one isn’t running,” Bucky’s response had approval laced all through it, because the underlying test was something Peter passed with flying colors. He faced what was coming head on and caught it. Might not mean much when it came to a harmless marble, but it would make all the difference in a fight between standing his ground and running scared. “We may have to keep him away from Steve though.” 

Needless to say, his off-hand comment made a lot of people confused including Steve himself, “Why Buck?” He questioned almost scandalized. 

“Because it would have been much better to dodge instead of catch an unknown object flying at your face, and we should not encourage him down the path of least self-preservation Mr. I-threw-myself-on-a-dummy-grenade-thinking-it-was real.” The Soldier pointed out, making some of the team laugh and others look at Steve in horror.

“Even Captain America might not survive a grenade to the gut,” Clint stated incredulously, he’d never been in the military or attended public school so he’d managed to miss that particular story of recklessness, “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t Captain America yet, that was actually how I became Captain America in a way. I was thinking if I was going to go out it would be protecting what I could, and it got me selected for the first trial of the serum.” Steve explained, wincing under Bucky’s dark look. 

“I tell him not to do anything stupid, and what happens? He turns himself into a lab rat.” Bucky grumbled. 

Steve just shrugged, “It worked out.” 

“What I want to know,” Tony interrupted, taking in Peter who was attempting to blend into the background to bring attention off himself once more, “Is how you knew that marble was heading for you? Are you a telepath?” 

Peter shook his head slowly, “No, I don’t read minds or anything, it’s just a feeling I get when I’m in danger or someone close to me is. I know when something’s coming at me and approximately how dangerous it is, like an instinct but faster and more precise.” 

“Well that’s a useful skill to have,” Clint realized. “How precise is it, if you’re okay with telling us anyway?” He knew the teen was on the fence about trusting them so pushing for more of his story than he was willing to give on his own would be a bad move. 

Peter couldn’t stop a little scowl of frustration, “That’s another thing that’s kinda hard to test. I mean having a marble flying at me is a different level of warning then almost slamming face first into a bus, but how much variation there is I don’t really know yet. Like my physical strength it’s been developing over time so whenever I think I’ve gotten a handle on it something changes.” Peter felt it was safe enough to tell them that much, they couldn’t use it against him if even he wasn’t sure what his limits were.

“You really do need a place to practice, badly. I’m glad Tony spotted you when he did.” Steve affirmed. “It’s okay to keep some of your skills hidden from the people around you, it’s a safe move to have something in reserve, but it’s never a good thing for you yourself to not know about your abilities.” Steve had discovered he was a hell of a lot stronger then he realized in some of the worst conditions possible, so he would do everything in his power to help Peter not fall into that trap. 

JARVIS interrupted them politely before there could be anymore commentary, “Sir, Happy Hogan has requested assistance bringing packages inside.” 

“And there’s dinner,” Tony realized, getting to his feet to go help Happy, Sam ducking out with him just in case. So many people on the team had increased metabolisms a food order for a single meal could be more than even two people could carry. 

Dinner turned out to be several kinds of pastas and a variety of salads for health’s sake. Peter stuck next to Pietro, Bobbi plopping down on his other side at the long table the team crowded around. He was hesitant about taking food, dragging a bit of salad and some chicken pasta on his plate. 

Steve’s eyes narrowed, sitting across from Peter, “Now is not the time to be shy. There is no way that’s enough for you if you have so many enhancements, I bet you actually need to eat almost as much as me if not more.” Both Steve and Bucky had recovered enough from their captivity that they were stomaching portions closer to their actual needs with less call for supplementation. The baby was even letting Steve keep it down most of the time these days. 

Peter blushed bright red at getting caught out, admitting quietly, “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t at least a little hungry. I mean I ate like a starving wolf before everything happened, but now its more like a plague of locusts.” 

“Just another reason for you to train with us, we can make sure you get enough calories.” Tony had not realized that would be a problem for Peter, but then again only watching recordings didn’t give the full extent of what Peter was capable of and even mental enhancements took up calories to use. Steve was right, Peter would need a huge amount of food to keep himself running at optimal strength, just like the super soldiers needed and Natasha to a slightly smaller extent. 

“Hunger is never okay,” Pietro spoke up emphatically. “I was the same way for a long time. My speed, it is a marvel, but there is a cost for it. Until Wanda and I were taken in by the team there was always biting hunger, what they fed us was just never enough for both.” The Twins had both needed extra food when the experiments took hold but were kept to the same strict rations as before they even started, meaning they were continuously borderline starving. It had taken the team months of patience to break their habit of hoarding food, time the only thing able to reassure them they would never be deprived of food again. 

“The point everyone is trying to make is, there’s plenty here, eat as much as you want and need.” Tony finished off. “You fit right in with everyone else who needs much more than a normal person.”

“You know the kid hasn’t actually agreed to anything, right?” Sam pointed out, flashing a grin at Peter, “Listen, as much as it sounds like everyone has ever intention of kidnapping you, I will personally make sure you get the time you need to make the right choice for you. No one should just jump into an arrangement like we are proposing, so as much as we really think you need some assistance, it is in no way set in stone.”

It took a moment for Peter to find his voice, “Thank you, and it’s okay. I’m sorry for worrying anyone, and even I can see I do kinda need some help with all this. I’m just not sure about all the legal stuff people keep talking around.” 

Well, okay, the kid was smart, and Sam was impressed. “You are allowed to ask any questions you need to, and if you do touch on something we aren’t allowed to talk about we will tell you that straight up instead of lying to you; we can promise that much.” 

“Mr. Stark said something about signing a contract, that you can help me without it, but I won’t really be on the team unless I do. Well, what exactly happens if I sign?” 

“First, I already warned you that you would need to tell your guardian about what you’ve been doing, I know you don’t like it but that’s the bottom line. We can’t legally support you without her permission. We can make sure you are as safe as possible until you are ready to sign, but until that point you would be completely exposed to whatever government agencies came looking for you, and with what is already out there on your abilities they will be checking in sooner rather than later. You’re good, and people are starting to realize it.” Tony reiterated his earlier points, correctly seeing that as Peter’s biggest hang-up no matter how understandable it was.

“I got all that, as much as I hate the idea, I understand why you’re saying it.” Peter assured firmly, “I meant more like who would have access to my name and why? I do my best to keep that secret for a reason, and I don’t care how many good points you bring up, that reason is more important than anything else.”

“You are protecting someone,” Clint recognized. “I did that too, not my own name, but my kids. I hid them from everyone but a handful of people.” 

“Yes, but it’s not just one person, it’s everyone I know. Just being close to Spider-Man could put them in danger from people trying to get revenge on me.” Peter admitted. 

“I wish we could say that wasn’t a possibility, but everyone at this table knows that’s a lie,” Rhodey pointed out. “I mean Tony and Steve are probably the most visible of all of us and they’ve done what they could to protect people. Tony gave me a suit of my own while Steve doesn’t really interact much with people who aren’t on the team and therefore already in danger. If secrecy is what you need to keep your people safe I say we need to find a way to accommodate that.” 

“Actually, one of things T’Challa and I have been working out is exactly that,” Tony revealed. “You want to explain or should I?” He offered to the prince.

T’Challa shrugged, “It is a simple enough concept. The contract governing the Avengers is held by Wakanda alone, and what we are negotiating for is a contract between the United States government and my father. The only thing outside of the team itself that will need your legal names is the contract with my father. For your government we will use your callsigns. If they are truly only arguing for surveillance and not something more nefarious they should have no call for more than that, it should be sufficient that your direct governing body -meaning my father and I- know the truth.”

“You really think we can win that argument?” Sam asked incredulously, his time as a soldier and later work at the VA had given him a taste of just how impossible some of American Bureaucracy could be. 

“Its more like that’s the best offer they are going to get, so its either take the bone we’re throwing or we disappear off the grid.” Tony warned. “At the core of all this is a power struggle and we are going to take advantage of that, if they think there is a chance of the whole team ghosting off into the wind then they are going to be doing backflips to keep us under their thumb. None of this would have a prayer of working if we didn’t have Prince T’Challa and King T’Chaka backing us up giving us a third option of neither giving into the demands or branding ourselves criminals, instead we are giving them a deal that they don’t dare refuse.” 

“What’s stopping them from just branding us criminals and being done with it if they find our terms too difficult to deal with?” Clint was also familiar with governmental pitfalls as a child running from the system. 

“The very fact that we are handing them a deal means they have to take it or they get branded the bad guys and not us. The last thing the government wants to brand us as is martyrs to a cause. We could go to all the major presses in the country and tell them just what was proposed by them and how our offer was shot down. We’ve got them trapped with this plan as long as we don’t get greedy and go too far but keeping identities private should be very doable.” Tony explained. It had been Rhodey, T’Challa, and him working on this all through the move that got them to this point with as much surety as it was possible to have.

“So, I would only need to tell my Aunt, no one else?” Peter had followed the thread of conversation as well as he could, but still felt better getting a direct confirmation. 

“Yep, that about sums it up, to put this in the simplest terms possible there is no actual legal reason whatsoever the US has to know exactly whose name is on the contract between us and Wakanda, the fact that we are even willing to give a list of callsigns is more of a boon then we truly need to give but it’s a point in our favor if we show some kind of compromise. This is a war of personas as much as it is politics, so while Capital Hill might hate us, if the public loves us enough there is very little they can do about us without losing face with America itself something they hate even more than the Avengers.” Tony elaborated. 

“What about people that don’t have official callsigns?” Sam asked with a pointed look at Clint’s kids. 

“Everyone gets to choose their name, but it’s a one-time deal kind of thing, no changing our minds once they are listed in the contract.” Rhodey explained.

“Oh and by the way, Bobbi and Cooper do have call sings, Bobbi’s is even Shield issued.” Clint informed, not missing Sam’s look. “Fury knew about her and figured it would be better she had a listed name in case of a raid and we need to move them quickly. Cooper’s is just between Nat and I, but serves the same purpose.”

“What’s your name?” Peter asked the girl sitting next to him curiously. 

“Mockingbird,” She answered proudly. 

Cooper was beside Clint and perked up at the line of questioning, giving his without prompting, “I’m Nightingale.” 

“So… Birdbrain, did you really have to name them after birds?” Tony teased.

“What’s wrong with that? They’re awesome birds for awesome kids,” Clint shrugged. “It’s not like these two have complained about it.” 

“You don’t mind?” Steve asked the kids playfully. 

“Nope, I’m proud of mom, don’t mind being named after a bird cause of him.” Bobbi chirped happily. 

“I like my name,” Cooper insisted softly, not wanting to be left behind but still a little nervous with everyone’s attention on him. 

“So what do you think Peter? Is it time to talk to your Aunt or do you want to be a shadow for a little longer? Remember the choice is yours alone, don’t let us talk you into making it for you.” Sam inquired gently. 

“I think I want a part in all this,” Peter answered slowly, “But I am just not ready to talk to my Aunt, she’s been through so much that I can’t put anymore on her. I will though, just, not yet.” 

“Then we’ll play it that way,” Tony assured. “I meant it though kid, first thing we’re doing is getting you a proper suit. You’ve done well on your own, but I’d like to see you with something a little safer, after seeing what you can do with spare parts and determination I’m willing to go so far as to say meet me in the lab tomorrow and we’ll design something for you together, sound right?” He was impressed with the kid in many ways, and liked encouraging the pursuit of knowledge wherever he found potential and this one was brimming with it.

“Are you serious?” Peter’s jaw dropped, and he was grateful he’d managed to swallow his last bite before that bomb was dropped. Tony’s nod had him vibrating with barely controlled excitement, “I’d love to!” 

“Right then tomorrow you me and Rhodey get to meet up at the tower after you get out of school, JARVIS will let you in, meeting in the city will give us more time and you’d have less to try and explain away if your Aunt asks.” Tony explained the plan. 

“Thank you so much Mr. Stark!” He parroted, and about half the team nearly burst at the seams trying not to laugh at the adorably awkward mess of a fanboy Peter was trying his best and still failing miserably at suppressing.

Having Peter around was going to be a lot of fun, they could tell just from this one meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I have a really good excuse for how long this update took. I went on a trip to New York City for spring break and it was fantastic, managed to pack a truly awesome amount of things into a three day trip. Saw a show on and off Broadway (Kinky Boots and Avenue Q), partook of a Hookah bar and truly amazing Latin food, then went to Harlem for a Jazz museum and lunch at a soul food place, dinner at the Hard Rock Café, had dim sum in Chinatown (Chrysanthemum tea is amazing), saw the Stonewall Monument and got a shake at The Big Gay Ice Cream store in Greenwich village before we went to Small’s jazz club for live music and rose lemonade. There may have been a sex museum involved at some point too (Friend and I going into sex museum: ME: So… are we really doing this? FRIEND: Yes, I am dragging your asexual ass inside. ME: The correct term is Demi! The clerk overheard and he laughed at our antics, but I did genuinely enjoy myself.). I am actually finishing this chapter up on the train back to my friend’s place, then I have to catch a bus tomorrow morning home. All totally worth it. I truly love the city and I may or may not be plotting a way of moving there some day.


End file.
